


I Can't Care About Anything (But You)

by kbs_was_here, PrettyLittlePoutyMouth



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Jane's ridiculous and Maura will carry a torch for a hundred years, Light Angst, No really we mean slow burn, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:46:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 169,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbs_was_here/pseuds/kbs_was_here, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth/pseuds/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that they're codependent, it's just that seeing each other every alternate weekend is never quite enough time for Jane and Maura to catch up. Spoilers up through 7x13.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, we've both been sitting around, diligently working on sequels to our respective stories, finding ways to deal with our individual feelings about the show coming to a close. One is very close to being finished, the other is tagging behind.
> 
> And then about three weeks before the final episode was due to air (today, as of the writing of this note), we decided to start outlining a story that would tie all seven seasons of canon into the ending we wanted for Jane and Maura. The outline alone is 1000+ words. Clearly, there are a lot of places we want to take these characters in order to finally get them aligned into an ending that best serves their epic romance, or in their case, getting them to admit they've been having an epic romance, this entire time.
> 
> This fic is in-progress and we likely won't post more than this first chapter** until it's finished. But we wanted to put this out there, this beginning of the hope that these two will, eventually, find a way to actually voice their feelings for each other, face to face.
> 
> This story is canon-compliant with all seven seasons.
> 
> Happy reading!  
> -kben & pouty
> 
> ** UPDATE: So, as of this posting, we have 24,000 words written and haven't even put a major dent our mega-outline. Because of this, we've decided to update once a month with new chapters (and they should be around the 5,000 word range) and already have enough lined up to assure you a fresh chapter a month through the end of 2016. We have a lot of feelings. <3

As the remainder of the cabernet poured into Maura’s glass, Jane contemplated opening another bottle, but that would mean getting up from the sofa and, at the moment, they were both cozy and comfortable under the oversized Red Sox throw blanket, so she simply set the bottle down and continued her story.

“So, then, and you’ll love this, I told them about the thing with the gold and the zinc and the phone booth thing--”

“Oh, the vacuum metal deposition test!” Maura smiled over the top of her wine glass, eyes sparking in approval (and maybe also because this was her fourth glass of the evening).

“Yes… _that_ … with the gold and the zinc and the phone booth.” Jane’s own wine glass was bottomed out, so there was another mental tug to open up a new bottle.

But. Warm. Cozy. Comfortable.

“And?”

“And they thought it was really cool. A few thought I was making shit up, but I told them by best friend is a genius scientist. And that if they didn’t believe me, I’d have you come in and explain, in detail, the chemical interaction process.”

“I’d love to!”

“No, Maura…” Jane chuckled. “It was a threat.”

“Science is _fun_ ,” Maura countered, crossing her arms in defiance. “You were often down in the lab with me when you didn’t need to be present.”

“Sure, when I’m seeing it in action and it’s giving me what I need to crack a case, it’s awesome.”

“Maybe I could arrange a live experiment. Something based on your current curriculum.” Jane’s head cocked as she wondered how easily that could be done. She’d originally come out as a guest of Cameron’s, so… why not Maura? “I might look into that. It’d be nice to work together on something again, even if it’s just for an afternoon.”

“I’ve certainly missed that blank stare you get when I’m overindulgent with the details.”

“It’s not a blank stare. It’s a meditation.” Jane sat straight up, realizing exactly the experiment she wanted to do for her class. “Can we do the fat bomb?”

“I’m not sure that would be safe for a classroom setting.”

“You never let me see the fat bomb,” Jane pouted.

Maura’s laugh was interrupted by the chiming of her iPhone. “Oh, that’s my cab.” She tossed the coverage of the blanket off her legs, straightening her skirt as she stood.

“Already?” Jane squinted at her watch, not particularly caring about the time. Her tactic was always to delay goodbyes and she had a month’s worth of European souvenirs to prove it.

Maura slipped on her heels and collected the small carryon bag from its now-regular resting place next to the doorway of the apartment’s single bedroom. “It’s nearly ten. Remember when I used to leave at six?”

Jane’s reply was to cross her eyes and reluctantly shove the blanket off herself. “I should have offered to take you.” She grabbed her nearest pair of shoes, which were the clamshell Adidas that she usually slipped on when running down to pay the pizza guy, and shoved her feet into them.

“Nonsense.” Maura called out to her, doing a final round of checks, surveying the bedroom to make sure nothing was left behind, making sure she had her phone charger tucked in the side pocket of the bag (which was ridiculous because it never left the bag given that Maura always ended up using Jane’s charger, every single time she visited), and that all the weekend’s leftovers were put away in the refrigerator. “It would have cut into our wine and conversation time.”

“Never feels long enough,” Jane grumbled, opening the front door for Maura.

“You don’t want a jacket?” Maura asked, fashionably tying her trenchcoat belt around her waist.

“I’m just walking you downstairs.”

“It’s December.”

Jane shrugged and Maura didn’t argue any further. But when Jane opened the lobby door to the outside, she shivered. “Give me a hug so I don’t freeze to death.”

“It’s at least fifteen degrees above freezing,” Maura replied. “You’d need to be extremely exposed for an extended period of time for your core temperature to drop low enough for hypothermia to set in.” But she wrapped her arms around Jane, giving her a strong squeeze before letting go.

“Text me when you land.” Not a question, but part of a routine.

Maura nodded and waved as the driver held the car door open for her. “It’s only three weeks, Jane.”

“I know.” Jane didn’t want to be reminded that it would be nearly a month before she saw Maura, again. But the next visit had Jane taking her first extended trip home to Boston since she’d moved, so the wait would be worth it.

Once Maura was safely in the cab, Jane hurried back inside, rubbing her arms through her sweatshirt. Back at the apartment, her phone sat on the coffee table between the two wine glasses. There were a couple of texts from Cameron, ones Jane had glanced at when they came through. She knew it wasn’t too late to reply, but she really just wanted to spend the night alone.

Just like most of these alternate Sunday nights, Jane drank a glass of water to help stave off any potential hangovers, brushed her teeth, and crawled into bed with her laptop. She pulled up Netflix and opened up _Major League_ , because she’d seen it a million times and it wouldn’t matter if she dozed off while she waited for Maura’s text that let Jane know she’d landed safely at Logan and was on her way back to Beacon Hill.

Sure enough, Jane was drifting when her phone buzzed next to her pillow (which would carry the hint of Maura’s flowery perfume on in for the next few days, since Jane always insisted on taking the couch whenever Maura came to see her). She cracked her eyes open enough to see the message and the one that immediately followed the first:

**Just landed.**

**Don’t let all the salad go bad this time.**

Too tired to engage in a text-argument about whether or not she was capable of remembering to eat enough leafy greens, Jane replied with a sleepy-faced emoticon surrounded by Zs.

This was the routine. Texts and weekend visits and Maura pestering her about eating right because Jane’s idea of grocery shopping was keeping the cabinets stocked with cereal and EZ Mac.

* * *

 

Back in Boston, Maura quickly punched in the code to her security system. It had been installed at a few months ago, when it had finally settled that Jane was actually hundreds of miles away and wouldn’t be stopping by regularly. She’d never specifically thought of Jane as any kind of security measure, but her absence certainly magnified just how vulnerable Maura was when she was alone in the house. Especially when her schedule now included regularly returning from the airport after midnight.

She moved through her usual routine, casually sorting through the mail on her desk that Angela had brought in for her. There was never anything that needed her immediate attention, but Maura preferred process and procedure in most areas of her life. It helped center her. Satisfied with her survey of the assorted junk mailers and catalogs, Maura carried her single bag up to her bedroom and deposited it at the foot of her bed. She’d unpack tomorrow. For the moment, it was all about returning shoes and jewelry to their rightful homes, then she undressed and quickly showered, not wanting to cross-contaminate her bedding with anything from the airplane.

It was nearly two by the time she slid between the sheets, aware of the difference between her preferred thread count and the linens on Jane’s bed (which were, to Jane’s credit, not the absolute worst). There had been a point in time when Maura had been adamant about not consulting her iPhone within thirty minutes of attempted sleep, having found the theory of blue light negatively impacting sleep to be scientifically sound. But ever since Jane’s move, Maura tended to keep her phone close when settling in and, on nights like tonight, she felt compelled to send just one more text before attempting sleep.

**Remember you want a coarse grind for the French press. If it’s too fine, it’ll be muddy.**

Jane would likely be sound asleep, Maura knew. But she’d had a minor victory in getting Jane to even agree to try the French press method in lieu of the terrible instant she usually kept on hand and Maura wanted to make sure everything ran smoothly in her absence. Especially after all they’d been through finding the proper beans at the farmer’s market. Jane had acted as if tasting various coffees was some kind of inconvenience, but there was a point where she was commenting on flavor notes and Maura felt as if she’d had success in bringing a little more culture into her friend’s life.

It was close to four when Maura’s phone woke her up with a text alert. The entirety of the message was a coffee cup emoticon. It made Maura smile, at least, as she turned over to fall back to sleep.

Her alarm woke her only a few short hours later. Though sufficient sleep was important, it was also important to Maura that she keep her sleep schedule as close to normal as possible, so she arose at her regular morning hour, and got dressed to go for a run. An endorphin rush to start the day would hopefully help counter her lack of sleep.

It was around eight when Maura let herself back into the house and drank a few glasses of water to rehydrate from her run. Her mornings were simple and quiet these days, now that she and Jane weren’t meeting for breakfast almost every day. Sometimes, she had breakfast with Angela, though that all depended on whether or not Angela needed to watch TJ before making sure he got to kindergarten. Which was happening more and more often these days, but that was a good thing, because it meant Tommy was staying busy with work. It also meant that Maura spent most of her breakfasts reading instead of conversing with the people closest to her.

But that, too, was fine, because Maura knew that in order to write well, she would need to read a lot, and she appreciated having more time in the day to read fiction for pleasure.

Today, however, Maura retrieved her laptop from her carryon bag and brought it down with a brown bag of coffee beans, identical to the one she’d left on Jane’s countertop. As her computer booted up, Maura put water on the stove and measured out and ground the beans, then sent a video call to Jane.

Jane answered almost right away, her face filling the screen. Her eyes were still puffy with sleep and her hair was wild. Her expression shifted to surprise as she regarded Maura. “Did you go running? I know what time you went to bed. How are you even awake?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Maura responded, smiling, “Did you sleep well?”

“I know I slept more than you,” Jane said, “What happened to your whole eight hours of sleep requirement?”

“I’ll be sleeping biphasically today,” Maura replied, “It’s Monday. I’m not expected at BPD until the afternoon.” With Maura continuing to work at the clinic and on her novel, she had been leaving Kent with more responsibilities at BPD. Though she was still the Chief Medical Examiner and could be called to work on something at any moment, she had done what she could to limit her hours, especially after a weekend with Jane.

“Does that mean you’re going to take a nap?” Jane asked, frowning and trying to smooth her unruly hair.

“Yes,” Maura answered, “But first, I want to have coffee with you.”

Jane sighed, “Right, coffee.” She turned around, and Maura listened as she poured out beans to weigh them. She glanced over her shoulder, “I’m going to grind them, so, mute me if you want.” Maura nodded, and turned down her volume, but didn’t mute. Jane turned, leaning against the counter and grimacing as the mechanical sound of the coffee grinder came through Maura’s speakers. Maura could tell, even on the computer screen, that the t-shirt Jane had worn to sleep in was old and thin, and she could see a few holes forming at its bottom hem. The hoodie Jane had thrown on to ward off the morning cold in her apartment didn’t have any holes, at least, but Maura was sure it was the same one Jane had kept in her car when they’d first met.

The sound stopped, and Jane gave a thumbs up to Maura, who turned the volume back up again. “You ground them coarse, right?”

“Yes, Maura, you only told me a _hundred_ times.” But Jane threw a smirk over her shoulder.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed with the first cup of French press coffee that you make yourself.”

“I don’t know why they call it French press. The whole time we were over there, I didn’t see a single person make coffee this way,” Jane grumbled. “Besides, it’s so much effort.”

Maura decided not to comment of the etymology of the term and instead argued, “It’s hardly any more effort than making instant. You still have to boil the water. You just have to let it steep a little longer and strain it. And I suppose you could just grind all the beans at once, though grinding fresh improves flavor. But this is fresh _real_ coffee, Jane. Not the chemically emulsified freeze dried flavored crystals of instant.”

Jane groaned. She’d heard this argument before. Maura’s tea kettle whistled, and she moved to the other side of the island to turn it off, then turned the computer around. “When your water boils, you’ll fill it up, like this, then stir gently, then let it steep for about three minutes.” Maura walked Jane through her process.

“Three minutes!” Jane whined, her head thrown back as her shoulders sagged.

“By the time you’ve prepared your breakfast, it’ll be--”

“Already done. Look.” Jane held up a bowl of cereal to the webcam.

Maura peered at the sugar frosted flakes that were being presented to her. “That’s not a balanced meal.”

“No, it isn’t. Because I balance out my Frosted Flakes with coffee that won’t be ready for… how long has it been?”

“I know you have fruit. There’s an entire basket of blueberries in the fridge. I washed them already.”

Jane scrunched up her face, but then walked away from the camera’s view. Maura could hear the hum of the refrigerator as the door opened. Moments later, a handful of berries were being dropped into Jane’s cereal bowl. “Better?” came the question as Jane’s face ducked in close and low to the camera.

Maura hummed, moderately pleased. “Somewhat.”

As Jane finally managed to sit still long enough to shovel a heaping spoonful into her mouth, Maura casually made a note in her journal about something she wanted to add to her current story. When she set her pen down, she glanced at the clock in the corner of the computer screen.

“Is it time?” Jane asked, already reaching for the french press.

“Yes,” Maura chuckled. Jane was like a hyper puppy and that energy clearly radiated even via Skype. “Press it slowly, because otherwise you’ll distress the grounds.”

“Wouldn’t want to distress the grounds,” Jane mumbled. “Now what?”

“Pour and taste.”

Maura only poured herself maybe a quarter cup, swirling and then tasting it, allowing the flavor notes time to present themselves.

“‘s good.”

“I’m detecting flavor notes of citrus… maybe lemon? And certainly cocoa. I find the French press really brings out the boldest flavor notes”

“I taste coffee.” Jane’s commentary came between mouthfuls of cereal. “Good coffee.”

“You’re not even trying.”

“Maura,” Jane whined. “I waited three whole minutes.”

That, Maura supposed, was certainly a success when it came to getting Jane to try new things. “All right,” she sighed.

“Shit, I gotta shower,” Jane jumped up from her seat, presumably spooning whatever was left in the bowl into her mouth. There was the brief sound of the sink and the clatter of the bowl being abandoned. There was a strong probability it would sit there for at least a week. “I’ll text you around lunch.”

“Have a good class!” Maura called out, knowing Jane wasn’t even going to bother disconnecting the call before rushing into the bathroom, leaving it up to her to hit the big red “end call” button. She was sometimes tempted just to leave it open, from an anthropological perspective so see if Jane behaved any differently when she assumed she wasn’t being observed. But that was invasive and, therefore, unethical.

And Jane was almost always reliably just Jane.

This was proven true later that afternoon when Maura received a notification asking if username “MDIMD” wanted to join “Soxxoli825” for a game of _Words with Friends._ It was followed by a text from Jane.

**HOUSE RULES Weird doctor words no one else knows are not allowed!!!**

Maura felt this was particularly unfair. After all, the game had its own dictionary, so if the words she played were accepted, they shouldn’t be against the rules.

**You’re still upset about the xeropthalmia incident?**

**You have an unfair advantage**

**I don’t see how attending and graduating medical school is unfair.**

**It’d be like me being allowed to use any name from the last thirty years of Red Sox rosters**

Though she understood Jane’s point, the rules were still in her favor.

**Proper names aren’t allowed, as per the official game rules.**

**Well that’s my specialty**

**I just want to have a fair game**

**Are you sure you wouldn’t rather play chess?**

**It’s no fun when I can’t yell checkmate in person**

Which happened more than Maura cared to admit. It seemed that Jane had even gotten tired of winning. But Jane was competitive. It was probable that she was choosing _Words With Friends_ because she found it to be more of a challenge.

Once a detective, always a detective. Maura was happy to help be the outlet if Jane needed something challenging to exercise her mind.

**Fine. I’ll avoid using advanced medical terminology.**

After all, it only limited a small portion of her vocabulary. She supposed that was fair

enough.

**And no Latin!**

**Ego coniecto.**

**MAURA**

They played during free moments for most of the afternoon. Maura took a nap and then checked in at BPD and took care of a few small things that needed her attention. But it was a fortuitously quiet day at BPD, which meant that Maura had her evening to devote to writing.

Despite her nap, however, she found that she was fairly mentally exhausted. This was common on Mondays after she came back late from visiting Jane, which was why she did her best to keep her workload light on those days. She moved downstairs and took the steps to prepare a cup of peppermint tea. It would stimulate her mind but not interfere with her sleep schedule the way caffeine would.

As she waited for the water to boil, she opened up her laptop, pulling up the folder that contained the chapters of her most current novel. But her current routine had her working on a side project on these alternating Monday evenings, the weekend away and travel back home leaving her with a need to decompress before falling back into her established writing schedule. There was another folder within the “Novel-In-Progress” folder, one simply labeled “x” that she clicked open. It had a half-dozen documents inside and she opened up the most recent file, an unfinished piece of prose that wasn’t narratively connected to her novel. All the documents in this folder were just exercises, really. After a brief review of the short story she had open, Maura closed it and pulled up a blank page.

In researching best writing practices, Maura had discovered that a good way to navigate around writer’s block was to write short form smut, and especially on these Mondays in which she was tired, she found that doing so helped her focus on her novel for the remainder of the week. She had previously struggled to write on those nights, fighting exhaustion and the distraction of contact with Jane through text, but switching to solely focusing on erotica on these nights had helped dramatically. Maura assumed it was because she was tapping into a primitive part of her brain, a part that didn’t need a lot of energy to be engaged, and the words flowed naturally. Though she rarely fully finished these erotic shorts, she would write enough to reintroduce the practice into her routine, and often, the writing would lead to a quick but satisfying masturbation session that would help her drift off to sleep at the proper hour.

And this was exactly her plan. She texted Jane to let her know that she was working on writing, which, it had been long established, meant that Jane wouldn’t text her for at least an hour. Maura regarded the blank document, trying to sort through what she was in the mood to write tonight. Her eyes wandered, and landed on the little piece of Delft blue pottery in the shape of a Dutch clog that rested on her desk. Often, she helped inspire her erotic writing exercises with prompts, and the little piece of pottery brought to mind their trip to Paris about six months ago, including the side trip to Amsterdam she had taken with a former classmate from her boarding school years, while Jane spent a few days researching Rizzoli family history in Italy.

Maura’s erotic tastes had always been broad, but she had to admit that the trip to Europe had helped her become more comfortable with her writing reflecting those tastes. She wrote about things that interested her, and that included men and women. As she considered what tonight’s exercise might include, she reflected on a particular flight attendant she frequently encountered on her return trips home from Jane’s. It wasn’t that Maura intended to write about this specific woman, she was simply inspired by her, and possibly had found herself having a sensual dream about said attendant as she dozed during this most recent journey back to Boston.

The sleepy fantasy combined with a few memories from her trip gave her the right combination to begin creating a scenario and, by the time her hour was up, she had a good, rousing thousand words or so of something possibly worth continuing beyond the evening’s exercise. When Jane’s text came through, Maura finished out her thought, then saved the file before checking her phone.

**Well whodunit?**

**You know I only do short exercises on Mondays.**

**People can write short mysteries. Encyclopedia Brown always solved things in five pages or less.**

**I can assure you, Encyclopedia Brown was not at all involved.**

**How was class?**

**Same as usual. Well one guy was really hungover so I kept shouting certain words for emphasis.**

**You certainly have a unique approach to classroom management.**

**Is that your way of calling me an asshole?**

**:)**

**Okay, when you resort to emoticons, I know you’re tired.**

**Night, Maura**

**Good night, Jane.**

Much as Maura hated to cut her conversation with Jane short, it was also a part of her Monday-after routine. The truth was, writing left Maura pretty keyed up, so she had made sure to communicate to Jane that bedtime came after her writing exercises, which always gave her an excuse to go upstairs for an uninterrupted, leisurely masturbation. Maintaining her libido had always part of her clear mind, clear body philosophy. Given that her dating life was primarily made up of occasional casual short-term partnering, giving herself the necessary sexual attention was common and sometimes preferred, as it allowed her to set a schedule she could maintain. Not that she certainly didn’t enjoy the spontaneity of meeting new people and the thrill that came with a passionate encounter. She did. But they weren’t a priority.

And as she fell asleep, body still humming with post-orgasmic haze, she reflected that the pleasurable chemicals in her body also helped elevate her mood as she faced the fact that she wasn’t going to see her best friend for three weeks.

* * *

 

Around Wednesday, Jane’s apartment began to fall back into it’s usual disarray. It wasn’t that Jane kept her home in a messy state, but Maura’s inability to leave any space she inhabited untidy always made it look cluttered in comparison. During the mid-week was when the coffee table would be cleared so Jane could tackle a new jigsaw puzzle. Her career shift into the realm of the academic left her brain itching to solve problems. This was why she regularly engaged Maura in _Words with Friends_ and why she was on the constant lookout for a good local chess partner. Cameron always chose big, bold moves, so there was no nuance or mystery to the game, leaving Jane feeling unchallenged. In the meantime, puzzles were something she enjoyed and could work on over the course of a couple of days.

With her teaching schedule, she was still trying to find ways to fill up her free time. Getting accustomed to regular hours--long blocks of time with no risk of being called to a crime scene--was still a struggle. Maura’s visits helped take up half of her available weekends and when Cameron was in town and not on a case, they’d go out for burgers and beer and sometimes bowling. But, there were still plenty of hours available in the day, so she was working her way through shows in her Netflix queue. Currently, _The X-Files_ was her go-to and even the spookier storylines didn’t generally keep her awake at night. Maybe because when she began to speculate about any of it being real, she could hear Maura’s voice in her head, reassuring her there was always a scientific explanation, even if it wasn’t obvious.

The puzzle for this week was one made up of vintage Fenway Park images. Frankie had sent it to her with a game ball he’d caught at a Red Sox game with Nina. She knew he must miss her if he was giving up something they both valued so highly. When she brought it up, he shrugged it off as being a foul ball, “not a homer or anything, so it’s not that big a deal.”

By Friday, she and Cameron had begun checking in with each other and making plans for the weekend, as he was scheduled to be back in town that night. Typically, Friday nights included a trip to The Federalist Papers, the local bar frequented by FBI agents and academy instructors, so they’d agreed to meet there and see where the evening went. Once Jane finished with teaching for the day, she followed in the wake of the group of instructors heading for the bar, smiling and nodding politely along to conversation she was only tangentially involved in. Surprised to see that Cameron wasn’t already there waiting for her, she took a seat at a table on the outside of the group, leaving an open chair across from her for him.

When Cameron had first described the bar to Jane, she’d been excited, because it sounded a lot like The Dirty Robber, a place Jane was almost as nostalgic for as any home she’d had in Boston. But in truth, it was vastly different. Even though they had good beer and even better food, Jane wasn’t sure she’d frequent the place if it weren’t the prefered watering hole of her current social circle. The atmosphere of the bar was... _cocky_. It wasn’t that the clientele was cocky--although some, particularly the federal agents even younger than Jane who tended to flood in as the night went on, definitely had an obvious air of arrogance. The bar felt too upscale somehow, even though the prices didn’t reflect that.

Jane ordered a Blue Moon, her usual since this bar didn’t stock Peroni. She might order a Moretti or some other Italian import when the mood struck, but typically stuck with what she knew she liked. She tried to follow the conversations her colleagues were having at nearby booths and tables, but no one was discussing anyone she knew or anything she recognized. So instead, she spent several minutes squinting at the TV at the bar, trying to follow what was going on in the Capitals game. She wasn’t at all invested in either team, but it was still hockey, and it beat awkward small talk while she waited for Cameron to show up. He was always good at making her feel included in these conversation.

By the time Jane had started on her second beer, she was getting antsy. Cameron was already almost a half an hour late, and nobody had scored in the hockey game for half a period. She texted Maura to complain about her boredom and hope that she could pick her friend’s brain for something interesting to contribute to the conversation around her, but when no response came, she remembered that Maura was volunteering at the clinic, and wouldn’t answer for awhile. She had also felt compelled to wait for Cameron to order food, but fuck that, she was ravenous, and already feeling a strong buzz from the beer.

Jane was halfway through her barbeque bacon and onion-straw burger when Cameron finally arrived. He touched her shoulder as he approached from behind, making Jane nearly drop her burger in a still involuntary instinct to reach for a gun she no longer carried, but just as fast, he was sliding into the seat across from her. “I’m so sorry,” he started with a disarming grin, “My flight was delayed. I got here as fast as I could.”

Jane shrugged, hand over her mouth as she chewed a big bite. “S’awright,” she managed to get out, wiping at barbecue sauce on her chin.

Cameron merely grinned fondly at her as she struggled to recover gracefully, then asked, “How are you?”

But before Jane had a chance to answer, a nearby table had shouted for Agent Davies’s attention, and he was standing back up for a round of handshakes and back-slaps and questions about his latest consultation. He flashed her an apologetic grin before turning his attention to the group. She knew he’d try and rush the current conversation in an effort to get back to her, but Jane had been where he was, just coming off an exciting case and wanting to talk it about it with colleagues. As she listened, Jane could already tell this case was a very interesting one, and she suppressed the surge of jealousy she felt as she heard about Agent Davies’s work in the field, and reminded herself that she was safer now than she’d ever been. And her mother probably slept better at night.

In an effort to avoid being _that_ girlfriend (even though they hadn’t really been using labels for what they were doing, she knew that’s how all of his friends referred to her), Jane quickly finished her burger and downed the remainder of her beer before sliding out of the booth and gently tapping Cameron’s shoulder to get his attention. He turned, mid laughter, but his smile fell when he saw her behind him, shrugging her coat back on.

“Oh, hey. I can wrap this up.” He was eager to please and Jane liked that he was attentive.

On the other hand, she was mildly pissed that he hadn’t even sent a text to let her know he was late coming back, even once he’d landed, and wasn’t sure how much more she wanted to hear about the case he’d been working. “It’s fine. I’m tired and I think I just want to watch some tv and go to bed.” She didn’t want him to feel too bad about it, though. “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You bet. And I think you’ll like what I have lined up.”

“We’re not going to the range?” Upon departure from BPD, Jane had surrendered her service weapon and since her current position at the FBI didn’t require her to carry a weapon, she was subject to all the regulations as public citizen. And with all the ins and outs of the conceal carry laws in the District of Columbia, it was easier just to not carry anything at all. That didn’t keep her from owning her own handgun, it just meant it lived in a lockbox in the apartment until she hit the shooting range, which was one of the standing dates she usually kept with Cameron. Jane studied him with a curious look, but as long as the promise to fire off some rounds was still on the table, she was fine. If not...

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to shoot.” His face was hopeful as he revealed his hand, “We’re doing a run through Hogan’s Alley.”

Hogan’s Alley was better than the range, it was basically the FBI academy’s version of paintball. At least, as far as Jane understood it.

“That sound awesome,” she admitted, before adding, “goodnight,” and accepting a quick, but rather chaste kiss from him before wrapping her coat around her and heading outside.

On the cab ride home, her phone lit up with a reply text from Maura, some kind of trivial anecdote about forensic anthropological advancements, and Jane grinned. Maura, at least, could be relied upon to follow through.

Jane knew even she herself wasn’t that reliable, because she had managed to turn a month in the most romantic city in the world into an extended goodbye instead of a new beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were on alert for this fic after the posting of the chapter one teaser, please see our updated note over at the first chapter.

There was a football game on the television in Maura’s living room, but no one was actually listening to it. The sound of multiple Rizzolis talking (see: shouting) always drowned out anything else within range.

“I know they’re only four and a half people,” Nina poked at TJ as he skidded by on the hardwood floors. “But they’re all so loud.”

“I’ve gotten used to it,” Maura commented, pouring the two of them each a fresh glass of chardonnay. “And even though she’s only one person, Jane doubles the noise when she’s--”

“Oh, come on!” came Jane’s rough voice through the tinny speakers of Angela’s iPad. “That’s a shit call, ref!”

The family had taken to Skyping with Jane during their traditional family dinners, which included game time with Jane watching at home on her television while livestreaming herself online. It wasn’t quite the same, but it kept Angela happy, even if, at times, the words out of Jane’s mouth tended to be four letters long.

“Language, Jane!” Angela chastised, glancing to TJ, who seemed oblivious as he climbed up on one of the breakfast bar stools to ask Maura for more grapes.

“I am very pleased to see you having such healthy snack habits, young man.” Maura dumped small handful into the boy’s waiting bowl.

“Thanks, Aunt Maura.”

Being an only child for most of her life, Maura had never fancied herself being anyone’s aunt. Even though Cailin was her half-sister, their familial bond was still growing and the idea of who she might be to any potential children in that branch of her family tree felt extremely distant.

But she’d known TJ his entire life and, to him, she was as commonplace and familiar as Jane had been. Even more, now that Jane had to make her appearances via digital media.

“You’re way too polite to be Tommy’s kid,” Frankie teased, taking a break from his spot on the couch to collect a round of beers for himself, Tommy, Angela and Ron. He helped TJ down from the stool, then edged around toward the refrigerator.

Tommy protested from his chair, but didn’t bother looking over at his brother. “I can hear you.”

“Frankie, leave your brother alone, he’s a good father,” Angela commented. It was rote, reflexive, with no bite to it.

Frankie glanced at Nina and half rolled his eyes before heading back to the couch, “I never said he wasn’t,” he couldn’t help protesting.

“Did nobody else see that play?” Jane shouted from the iPad.

Nina caught Maura’s eye again and they grinned. “I miss Jane,” Nina admitted, “But it is quieter here when we can just halve the iPad volume.”

“I miss her, too,” Maura replied, dropping her gaze to her wine glass. She swirled the liquid, took another sip.

Nina gave her a sympathetic smile, but dropped the subject. “Need help with anything in here?” she asked.

“No. Angela has a timer on for the lasagna. We’re just waiting on that.”

Nina nodded, thanked Maura for the wine, and headed back to the couch, where she tucked herself under Frankie’s arm. He pressed a kiss to her head but it barely interrupted the conversation he was having with Ron. Maura glanced around for Jane--for the iPad--and saw TJ, in Tommy’s lap, apparently deep in conversation with his Aunt Jane, specifically about the classic Star Wars marathon she’d been promising him. She focused on the sound of Jane’s softer tones as she spoke to the child, much harder to interpret in the ambiance of Maura’s living room.

She missed watching Jane and TJ together, too, and from the way TJ tended to commandeer the iPad during every Sunday dinner, it was clear he did, as well.

Maura double-checked everything in the kitchen, even though what she had told Nina about everything being ready had been true. It wasn’t that she felt at all out of place among all the Rizzolis (they had claimed her as family, long ago), but her mental calendar knew this weekend would have normally meant a trip to DC, where she’d be sitting on the sofa with Jane, arguing about the nutritional value of a double meat, double cheese pizza. She reminded herself that they'd see each other in five days and they were in near constant contact the rest of the time. Still, the packed living room felt a little empty during these family events without Jane’s physical presence and Maura wondered if that would ever change.

“She wants you.”

Maura looked down to see TJ holding the iPad up to her. She took it from him and he immediately scrambled back to the chair where Tommy was sitting, dive bombing into his father’s lap.

“Hey,” Jane greeted from the screen.

“Hi,” Maura replied, immediately grabbing one of the microfiber towels off the counter and wiping at the small fingerprints that spotted the screen.

As the towel stopped over the camera while Maura rubbed at a particularly sticky smudge, Jane scoffed. “Okay, if you don’t want to look at me, you can just say so.”

“Little hands leave big messes.” Content with her clean-up, Maura folded the towel and set it aside.

“I’m just amazed the kid can work that thing. Nina should get him a job in the BRIC unit.”

“There are children’s coding programs,” Maura considered. “If he shows real aptitude, maybe we could--”

“Whoa, let’s get through the basics, first. Addition, subtraction, letters, and baseball.”

“He’s already reading at a first grade level.”

“He is?”

Maura nodded. “And he really likes reading to me.” A small section of shelving in Maura’s living room had become home to a mini-library of early reader books. “We’re currently working through _Diary of a Worm_. It’s full of scientific inaccuracies but it’s certainly imaginative.”

“It makes sense some of your genius would rub off on him. You think he’ll read to me when I come out there?”

“I’m sure he’d love to.”

Jane was momentarily distracted, looking off camera at something, then she redirected her attention to Maura. “I think Cameron’s here with the pizza.”

“Please tell me he insisted on some kind of vegetable.”

“The sauce _is_ the vegetable, Maura. And the FDA will back me up.”

There was an unusually biting comment on the tip of her tongue about how both the FDA and FBI seemed to be conspiring against her, but Maura didn’t actually believe in conspiracies and she certainly believed in decorum. She also had the excuse of Angela’s timer sounding off next to her to pass the iPad back to the group so she could help serve the lasagna as everyone said their goodbyes.

And, perhaps, there was a slight vindication in knowing that if Jane were here, she’d much prefer the authentic homemade lasagna to any pizza out of the DC area.

* * *

 

By that Friday, Jane was trying to fit all of the Christmas presents she was taking with her back to Boston into her leopard suitcase. Everything else was in her regular carry on and she hated traveling with more than one bag, but this was the only way to get it all home. Or, well, to her hometown. She still had to remind herself that home was her apartment in DC, even with all the Red Sox gear and photos of Fenway that adorned the walls. Maura had even sent a shower curtain of the MBTA subway map. It had been a joke, but Jane was proud to shower in the presence of the Red Line.

She ignored the voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded a lot like her mother, that suggested she wouldn’t need to bring two suitcases if she’d done her shopping earlier and shipped the gifts to Maura’s address. In her mind, she hadn’t had time. Teaching took up a good chunk of her days and the stores were always a madhouse in the evenings. Which was maybe why almost all of the gifts were straight from the FBI gift shop.

Jane had discovered this year that the stress of holiday travel was a very real thing. She had missed Thanksgiving because a storm had delayed her flight until it was basically pointless to try and make it. But even with that experience on her mind, her excitement wasn’t dampened. Maybe it was because Maura hadn’t been there last weekend like she usually was, but her apartment was beginning to feel a bit depressing. For one thing, she was basically out of food, and starting to get tired of all the nearby takeout places. And it was beginning to get to the point that the apartment’s messiness was actually bothering Jane, though that didn’t mean she’d found the energy or focus to start cleaning.

Truthfully, getting out of her apartment for two weeks sounded great.

Once she was packed--and had triple checked a list Maura had emailed her--Jane had no idea what to do with herself while she waited for the cab to take her to the airport. Cameron had already left town to visit his family in Baltimore, but Jane knew that if he hadn’t, he would have offered to drop her off. He was exactly the kind of not-really-boyfriend who would do things like that. But they’d already said their goodbyes the day before, and it hadn’t felt much different than seeing him leave for a case. Except that Jane was leaving town, too.

There had been the moment, too, in which he’d asked her whether she’d like to accompany him to Baltimore for the holiday, but Jane had been planning to head to Boston all along, and hadn’t realized she’d never actually told him. He’d been happy for her that she was planning to go see her family, though, and Jane appreciated that he hadn’t tried to push for anything they weren’t ready for.

Though a part of her wondered why he didn’t. He was so expressive in most other areas of his life, Jane couldn’t figure out why they were still in this nebulous place in their relationship. They hung out a few times a week, when he was in town, and they basically always had a good time. He liked most of the same foods and pastimes as she did--though he was an Orioles fan, which led to some playful arguments, especially on the occasions he would come over to her Sox-themed apartment. And they typically slept together every few weeks. They weren’t just friends with benefits, that much she knew, but she wasn’t officially his girlfriend, either.

She didn’t really know when a relationship was supposed to get serious, but she thought it would’ve happened by now.

Though she could hear Maura telling her that straightening up, doing some dishes, and making her bed would make her home that much nicer upon her return, Jane chose to ignore the state of her apartment, and pulled out her phone.

**T-3 hours til I’m back in Boston.**

**I’m so happy you’ll be home for Christmas!**

Jane smiled a bit wistfully. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one having trouble seeing DC as her home. And Maura hadn’t been the only one to refer to Jane as coming “home” for Christmas. Her mother had said the same thing, too.

**So where am I staying?**

**I told you, taking care of your accommodations is my gift to you. You’ll see when you get here.**

**I hate surprises**

**An expected gift isn’t a surprise.**

Jane didn’t have a ready retort, which was fine, because her phone rang, alerting her that her cab was outside. She answered, told the driver she’d be right down, and texted Maura.

**My cab is here. I’ll keep you updated about my flight**

**The weather report has remained clear for your trip, but yes, keep me updated and I’ll see you soon! :D**

Jane hadn’t been on a lot of airplanes, at least not compared to someone like Maura, but she was starting to get the hang of the process from the travel she’d done in recent years. She checked her leopard suitcase and got through security pretty quickly, with enough time on the other side to fill up her water bottle and grab a pricey cup of coffee. Before too long, they were boarding, and the plane was full of families with restless kids and people trying to figure out where to stash heavy coats and scarves along with their carry-on baggage. Jane texted Maura just before turning her phone to airplane mode that everything appeared to be on-time, and then watched from her window seat as the plane left the ground and rose steadily into the gray winter sky.

Maura made this trip all the time, she reminded herself. As she sat, trying to figure out how to arrange her long legs so they wouldn’t cramp, she decided she didn’t know how Maura could stand traveling every two weeks.

The flight really wasn’t that long, however. The attendants breezed through the cabin, offering beverages and snacks, and Jane felt like they had just approved large electronic devices a few minutes ago when they were already announcing they needed to be shut down to prepare for landing. Jane had barely received the overpriced beer she’d decided she deserved before she was expected to have finished it and put her tray table up.

“Sorry,” the curvy flight attendant who’d served her beverage came around with a trash bag, “This flight is so short, I know you just got that,” she gestured to Jane’s beer.

Jane shrugged, “It’s alright, you’re doing your job.” The flight attendant winked at her as she killed her beer all at once so that she could throw away the container. Jane gave her a shrug and a smile, feeling a blush, probably more from the alcohol than from the busty woman’s attention. Still, that positive attention was undeniably pleasant. Most people she interacted with in daily life seemed intimidated by her.

By the time she landed, she felt warm from the beer, and hungry. She texted Maura as soon as she was allowed to do so, and gathered the carry-on items she could get to, waiting with mild irritation for the masses of people in front of her to slowly shamble off the plane. The flight attendant gave her another wink as she disembarked, and Jane couldn’t help smiling in return.

As she stepped into the airport, she was almost immediately faced with a gift shop chock full of merchandise for all the Boston teams. After spending so much time among Nationals fans and sometimes Orioles fans, Jane felt herself tearing up at the sight of a collection of Red Sox hats. She was unable to resist, and bought a few more last minute Christmas presents of expensive Boston sports memorabilia, some for her family, and some for herself. As an afterthought, she got a Red Sox cap for Cameron, knowing he would probably never wear it.

She’d spent longer at the gift shop than she thought, so that by the time she made it to baggage claim, Maura was already there, Jane’s leopard suitcase by her side.

“You sure that’s mine?” Jane teased, eyeing the gaudy piece of luggage.

“Even if I hadn’t traveled the Riviera with it and you, this gave it away.” Maura tugged at the baseball shaped luggage tag that hung from the handle. In her other hand, she held a to-go cup with the Boston Joe’s logo on it. “Welcome home.”

The light beer buzz had settled, but Jane was giddy just knowing she was back in Boston, and she didn’t fight the instinct to throw her long arms around Maura, who returned the hug with enthusiasm. “I guess we should get me checked in?” Jane asked, accepting the coffee once they separated. She was hungry, but she wanted to unload all her stuff before doing anything else. As she sipped the drink, she could tell it was decaf, which wasn’t a surprise given Maura’s strict personal policy about not consuming caffeine after a certain hour.

“Of course. I’m sure you’re also ravenous from the trip. And the high probability that you didn’t do any other grocery shopping leads me to believe you’ve just been snacking all day.” They exited the baggage claim and moved through the parking garage toward Maura’s car.

“I had… cereal.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“Dry?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s not a meal.”

“It’s not not a meal.”

“You’re impossible.” With a double beep, Maura unlocked the car and opened up the back but Jane snatched up the suitcase before Maura even attempted to lift it into the back. Jane tossed her carry-on in next to it, along with the bag of merchandise from the gift shop.

“You could have gotten any car you wanted after the accident,” Jane noted, closing the hatchback of the Prius.

“This is the car I wanted.”

“It’s the same car you had.”

“This one is several years newer and is even more efficient than the previous model.”

As they drove away from the airport, Jane listed several makes and models of cars she would have selected and Maura mostly just laughed softly in response. Even with all the crap she was dishing out, Jane liked that everything felt familiar in the moment.

When Maura parked in front of her house, Jane almost forgot they were supposed to be on their way to a hotel. “Oh, we’re stopping here, first?”

Maura didn’t reply as she shut off the car and exited the driver’s side. Out of curiosity, Jane followed, raising an eyebrow when the hatch popped open and Maura began to remove Jane’s belongings.

“What--”

“Janie!” Any questions were sidelined by Angela nearly body checking Jane against the side of the Toyota as she hugged her.

“Hey, Ma.” There was no irritation or annoyance, just contentedness as she accepted the long embrace from her mother.

“Everyone’s inside.” Without question, Angela took hold of Jane’s suitcase handle and wheeled it toward the house.

“What’s going on?” Jane asked.

“Well,” Maura began, “I told you I’d handle your accommodations. So… welcome to _Chez Isles_.”

“Wait…” Jane was left behind as Maura followed Angela, so she, again, shut the rear hatch and shuffled up the walk behind them. “I’m staying here?”

“As if we’d let you stay anywhere else,” said Angela. “You’d be here the whole time, anyway. No need to spend money on a hotel.”

“Did she talk you into this?” Jane asked Maura.

“It was her idea!” Angela answered, pushing the front door open. “Guess who’s here?”

There was a rousing chorus of heys and hellos as everyone greeted Jane in a haphazard receiving line. When she finally broke free of the aggressive group bear hug from her brothers, Jane worked the rest of the room with hugs from Nina and Ron.

“And who’s this guy?” she asked, as TJ flung himself at her.

“It’s me! TJ!”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it. You’re just so tall. I thought you were the mailman.” She swung him around and hung him upside down.

“No. I’m just in kindergarten.” His position was giving him a case of the giggles, so Jane flipped him back over and set him down.

“Well, I can’t wait for you to tell me all about it.” Jane mussed TJ’s hair, then turned to find Maura. “I should put my stuff… away.” But then Maura was coming down the stairs and her bags were nowhere in sight.

“Sit,” Angela said, shoving Jane toward a seat at the breakfast bar where a plate of food sat, waiting for her. They were leftovers, but that was exactly what Jane wanted in this moment. Real food from her mother’s kitchen--or, more likely, Maura’s kitchen, which had the same familiar feeling attached to it. Without Jane even asking for it, Maura opened a cold Peroni and passed it to her.

“If I knew it’d be like this, I’d have visited a long time ago.”

“Don’t push it,” Angela warned. She was teasing but still a little scary.

As she ate, the chaos died down. Frankie and Nina headed back home for the night with Tommy and TJ leaving shortly afterward. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and they had family plans for the next couple of days. Even Ron said goodnight before too long and then it was just Angela, Maura and Jane, gathered around the kitchen island.

Jane slumped, rubbing at her full stomach, as Angela cleared her empty plate away. “Wow,” she murmured, “Thanks, you guys. It’s really, really good to be back.”

“Well, God knows what you’ve been eating,” Angela complained, “I can’t send you ragu for every night. And Maura says your stove doesn’t see that much use.”

Jane turned to Maura, jaw dropping in mock outrage, “What did you tell her?”

“To be fair,” Maura soothed, “Jane does eat well after we go to the farmer’s market together.”

“Yeah, it’s the weeks you don’t visit I worry about,” Angela said darkly as she closed the dishwasher.

“I am an adult,” Jane announced, “And I’m sitting right here.” So what if she mostly survived off of leftovers from meals Maura made instead of cooking for herself?

Angela just laughed, and came around the counter to hug Jane and kiss her on the head, “I’m just happy all my children are home for Christmas.” She gestured and drew Maura in to join the hug. When Jane started to squirm, though, she let go. “I’m going to bed,” she said, “You girls don’t stay up too late!”

“It’s like she forgets we aren’t still actually children,” Jane smirked at Maura as the door to the courtyard closed.

Maura smiled, “She’s just excited.” She pulled out a bottle of Cabernet and began to open it.

Moments later, they were settling on their respective ends of Maura’s couch with a glass of wine each, and Jane finally had a chance to look around at the living room, which was mildly different. It was mostly because of the holiday; there was a big live Christmas tree in front of the window facing the front walk, a nutcracker on the mantle, and Angela’s old nativity scene on one of the side tables. Though they had celebrated at Maura’s house in years past, clearly more effort was put into decorating this year, probably because of TJ being around, Jane reflected. And speaking of TJ, his presence in Maura’s life had left its mark, as Jane noticed a nook in the shelving next to Maura’s fireplace that contained children’s books and probably educational toys.

It was strange to have not been around to see all the changes in Maura’s house as they happened, and she felt wistful. But, she reminded herself, she was _supposed_ to feel that way when she came home for Christmas. And, as their legs casually tangled under the blanket on the couch as they relaxed, Jane knew that, at least, some things would never change. This would always be one of her favorite places, somewhere she was the most comfortable.

“Looks like you guys went all out for Christmas this year,” she commented.

“Yes. Your mother was very excited. She insisted on a big tree and pulled all her old decorations out of storage. And I think it feels like a big year for everybody, with you being back, and I think having TJ here this year makes everything feel more magical.”

Jane nodded, smiling. It was true that there was no feeling quite like coming together with family for Christmas, but this was larger in scale than any previous year that they’d celebrated at Maura’s home. Lydia had family in Chicago, so Tommy and TJ had celebrated there for the past few years, and this year, Nina and Ron had become part of the family as well. In previous years, a small tree had been sufficient, but as the family grew, and as a new generation of Rizzolis emerged, Jane was glad that the older holiday traditions were coming back.

“I know letting her decorate must’ve been stressful, but I think it looks great,” Jane said, and as she looked around the room, she noticed other things--Santa hats adorned the statuettes and busts that decorated the living room, stockings embroidered with the names of family members hung from the mantle (including Nina, Ron, and, of course, Maura), greenery framed the stained glass window.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Maura replied, “I mean, yes, it was difficult at first, because I do like to have my house a certain way, but she had so many stories for all the decorations and ornaments. I got to hear all about your elementary school craft pursuits.”

Jane groaned and rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the tree. Among the finely crafted glass ornament sets that certainly belonged to Maura were the familiar ornaments from Jane’s childhood, composed mostly of popsicle sticks, macaroni, clothespins and pipe cleaners. “God, I can’t believe she still has some of these. I’m so sorry you had to sit through hearing about how Tommy and Frankie broke the nose off of that ornament in 1987, or how I couldn’t successfully glue two googly eyes onto my reindeer in kindergarten.”

“She told me you refused to make a normal ornament, and she had to have a conference with the teacher about your stubbornness.”

Jane’s mouth dropped open, “She never told me that!” Maura just laughed.

And as the evening wore on and the wine bottle slowly emptied, Jane knew something else. She and Maura would always have things to talk about. Even though they’d kept in touch daily over text, they still had enough to talk about for hours. And it was the same during the weekends when Maura visited.

It was different when they were together. Jane couldn’t describe it, but she knew texting wasn’t the same. Video chats weren’t even the same. One of the best feelings in the world was being able to sit with Maura in her living room and talk for hours.

And maybe, Jane reasoned, she needed to live in DC so that she could truly appreciate the times she and Maura spent together.

When the conversation began to wind down enough for Jane to realize how tired she was, Maura mentioned she’d left some basic toiletries in the guest bathroom for her. Jane assumed this meant her usual shampoo (and Maura still insisted it smelled like chemicals), but once she’d said goodnight and excused herself to begin getting ready for bed, she found a full gift basket sitting on the bathroom counter. Aside from the standards like shampoo and conditioner, body wash, deodorant, toothpaste, mouthwash, and hand lotion, she could see dental floss, a new toothbrush, a razor (and not the cheap disposable kind Jane usually used), and even a box of tampons.

After showering, both of her own volition and at Maura’s reminder the airplanes are major incubators of disease, Jane climbed into the guest bed, noticing how even the sheets reminded her of Maura, not just because of the color and the high thread count, but something about the smell of the linens and the room just had her personal stamp on it. She punched a text into her phone, even though it was just being sent to the neighboring bedroom.

**Is there a Gideon bible in the nightstand drawer, too?**

**No, but I can get you the yellow pages and select takeout menus.**

**You didn’t have to get me all the stuff**

**But thank you**

**Better to have what you don’t need than need something you don’t have.**

**Are you saying you expected me to forget a bunch of stuff?**

**You’re the one who forgot to bring a hairbrush to France.**

**I was just trying to be more natural and European :P**

**Did you remember to bring one this time?**

**Uh, maybe**

**There’s one in the drawer to the right of the sink. ;)**

**You don’t trust me**

**I know who I’m dealing with.**

**Did you even read the list I sent you?**

Knowing their close proximity, Jane didn’t even bother with another text. “Goodnight, Maura,” she called out.

**Goodnight, Jane.**

When Jane woke up in the middle of the night, she was surprised to realize she wasn’t disoriented. Maura’s guest room was perhaps one of the more consistent bedrooms she’d had for the past several years, as she’d moved around so much since her condo had burnt down. It had taken almost a month before waking up in her DC apartment in the middle of the night hadn’t confused her. She may have been safer in DC than anywhere, but clearly, her body at four in the morning didn’t know that.

Being able to wake up for a drink of water without then having to lie there and listen to her heart pound was a great relief. Maybe because the room itself reminded her so much of Maura, and Maura was so familiar. Her clothes often held the same light scent of lavender detergent as the sheets on the bed--some kind of fancy natural laundry soap and dryer sheets that Jane had always considered to be too indulgent a brand to spend more money on. The soft sheets and hypoallergenic pillows were an added luxury that made Jane sleep better anyway, at least, she thought so.

But while waking up somewhere not her bedroom itself didn’t distress Jane, getting back into bed and sliding her hands under a pillow made her nearly shout in alarm when she felt something hard and irregular she was certain wasn’t supposed to be there.

But being a former detective, her next impulse was to turn on the bedside light and flip the pillow toward the foot of the bed, body braced for what she might find.

It was a plastic brontosaurus, and Jane exhaled forcefully, picking up the figurine. It had to be TJ’s. She placed it on the bedside table, watching over her, as she flipped the light back off and settled back down into Maura’s warm and supremely comfortable guest bed.

Even after that shock, she fell back to sleep pretty quickly, and woke in the morning convinced that Maura’s laundry detergent must be magical.


	3. Chapter 3

It was well after nine when Jane appeared downstairs, her wild hair a mess as she shuffled into the kitchen where Maura sliced and diced an assortment of fruit and Angela plated one of her famous bunny pancakes.

“Good morning,” Maura greeted, happily.

“M’rning,” Jane mumbled, staggering toward the coffee pot and pouring herself a cup into the mug that sat, as if waiting for her. Which it was. Maura had always left one for her when they used to meet for breakfast before work. “Is TJ here?” she asked, eyeing the still-hot pancake.

“Not yet,” Angela replied. “So, yes, this one’s for you.”

Jane dropped herself into one of the bar stools, accepting the plate and even letting Maura dish a side of melon onto it.

“You should also consider some eggs to balance out the carbohydrates and the sugar, because of today’s planned activity.”

Jane’s full mouth didn’t stop her from asking, “What activity?”

“We’re going to the rink,” Angela replied.

Her eyes widened, “We’re going skating?” Her mouth was still full, but it was clear they both understood her.

Angela laughed, “Yes! It’s high time we brought this back, especially now since I’ve learned to skate a little bit, too.”

Jane eyed her as she swallowed the bite she’d been chewing, “I still don’t think you should be skating, Ma.” Maura had learned piecemeal over the years from Jane and Angela that although Jane had never been allowed to play ice hockey like her brothers as a child, her father had taught her to ice skate. When the Rizzoli children were young, going skating on Christmas Eve had been a tradition. While Frank Sr. had been out on the ice with them, Angela’s role had been to get them snacks and watch over their shoes and things. “I wonder if TJ’s been skating yet,” Jane mused before diving back into her pancakes.

Maura shook her head. “I don’t think so, because he and I were fitted for skates together earlier this week.”

“You?” asked Jane.

“Maura’s early Christmas gift to Tommy was the money for TJ’s skates.”

At last weekend’s family dinner, Maura had happened to overhear Tommy talking to Angela about wanting to enroll TJ in a kiddie hockey league, but the expenses of the necessary gear added up quickly. “I simply considered how quickly his feet are likely to grow and wanted to help him cut his costs.”

“Maura,” there was fondness in Jane’s voice. “That’s really thoughtful of you. Especially to a Rizzoli. And, you know what? When he grows out of this pair, let me know and I’ll get the next ones.”

“Boy, I wish I’d had family like you two when all you kids were little,” Angela mused. “Tommy had plenty of hand me down stuff from Frankie and Janie, but they all still grew like weeds on steroids and your father and I were always trying to keep up.”

Jane crossed her eyes as she mother tried to hug her, but she ultimately relented. But then her attention bounced back to Maura. “Okay, wait. _You_ got fitted for skates?”

“I haven’t been skating since I was a child and I thought it might be a nice hobby to take up.” As she came around the island, Jane realized Maura was actually wearing figure skates, right that moment. In purchasing them, she’d been informed that it was a good idea to wear them off the ice, with blade covers on, of course, to become accustomed to the fit.

“But you haven’t worn them on the ice, at all?”

“Not yet.”

“Maura, you have to break them in.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

Jane seemed to have more debate left in her, but then she shrugged. “Okay.”

The plan was to all meet up for the eleven o’clock skate session, so once Jane was showered and dressed, it was about time to meet everyone else at the skating rink. Maura drove, having exchanged the skates for a pair of calf-length leather boots. She didn’t mention anything to Jane about the fact her feet did seem a little sore after wearing the skates around the house that morning. She assumed it was part of the process. And she also didn’t want to hear Jane uttering any version of “I told you so.”

TJ, however, had apparently been properly training his own small feet over the course of the week, and while he needed help tying the laces, he navigated quite well between the benches while everyone else laced up before taking the ice. One of the other reasons Maura wanted her own personal skates was to avoid putting her feet where someone else’s had been. Walking a metaphorical mile in someone’s shoes was wisdom, but the literal application of the adage was an invitation to a host of fungal infections.

“You’re not concerned about _tenia pedis_?” Maura asked, watching Jane tighten a pair of rented skates around her feet, as her own hockey skates were back in DC.

“No. Because I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Jane.

“Athlete’s foot.”

It was enough to get Jane to pause, but only for a moment. “Nah. They spray everything down.”

“Aerosol disinfectant isn’t the most effective.”

“It never happened when we were kids, I doubt it’ll happen now.”

“Have it your way.”

“Thank you, I will.” Jane stood and flashed that wide grin that always drew a light laugh from Maura, then offered a hand to help Maura up off the bench. “Ready for this?”

“Yes.” Some research suggested that the keys to successful ice skating were stamina and balance, two things Maura was confident she had, based on her regular yoga and running workouts. But she was still slightly tentative about her first step onto the ice. Jane, however, was a like a rock, stable and ever present, keeping her arm out for Maura to grab, if needed. It took a minute before she was fully confident she didn’t need assistance and then Maura pushed off and glided away from Jane.

“You’re a natural,” Jane said, skates digging into the ice to keep up with her. “Though, if you really think about it, figure skating is just physics in action.”

The observation, coming from Jane, was a shock. “You’re absolutely correct.”

Jane glanced over at her, stone faced. “Surprised?”

“I have to say that it’s certainly unexpected.”

“Yeah, well,” and there cracked Jane’s smile, “there’s a whole Disney movie about it.”

“There is?” Maura asked, now putting out the effort to keep up with Jane, who had a natural, dominating motion as she slid past her and spun around to face her. “Can we watch it?”

“Sure. I think Ma has a copy.”

“Can you teach me to skate backwards?”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of an advanced move,” Jane teased. “And it’s definitely easier to learn with a hockey stick for balance.”

They worked on it for a while, Jane patiently showing Maura the correct movement of her feet and how to work her momentum. Maura only almost fell twice and Jane was there to catch her, both times.

“Lookin’ good, Maura!” Tommy called out as he passed by, TJ whipping past all of them.

“You okay to hold your own for a bit?” Jane asked.

Maura nodded. She was getting the hang of everything and, as far as going forward, she could manage that, just fine.

Jane shot off after TJ, playfully racing him to the other side of the rink. Frankie and Tommy seemed to have started some kind of competition of their own, so Maura met up with Nina, falling in the pace of her casual, easy style. “You seem quite comfortable out here.”

“I spent a lot of winters at the rink in Chicago. Nothing competitive, just fun.” Nina glanced at Maura’s stance. She was stable, but there was a hint of wobble every now and then. “I take it you didn’t skate much as a kid.”

“You would think my parents would have enrolled me in some kind of figure skating class as a child, but we often left the country for the winter holidays. And I attended boarding school in France.”

“They don’t skate in France?”

“Fencing and horseback riding were more the norm. At least at in my experience.”

A buzz sounded across the ice and the skaters began to clear off the rink to make way for the Zamboni. Maura was having a great time, but the opportunity to sit was welcomed, especially when Angela was waiting for everyone with a tray of hot chocolates. Jane had already snagged two of the cups and handed one to Maura as she took a seat on the bench next to her.

“It’s watery and probably full of chemical flavor, but it’s hot.”

“It’s traditional and I like that.” Maura tested the heat of the drink against her lips and decided to give it a moment to cool down.

“Having fun?”

“Yes, although, I did notice your mother wasn’t out there with us.”

“You’re right,” Jane realized. “Maybe she wised up.”

But when the hot chocolate was consumed and the ice cleaned, Angela was spotted securing a pair of skates to her feet and then she and Ron walked hand in hand onto the ice.

“Oh, they look lovely,” commented Maura.

“Until she sprains another ankle,” Jane said.

“It’s romantic. Their first dates were at an ice skating class.”

“Remember how she lied to us?”

“She said it was… French cooking, wasn’t it?”

“And you were like, ‘ _Ooo_ , I love French food. All the _flerm_ and _blorm_ and…’” Jane trailed off into her best fake French gibberish.

“I don’t know that I’ve tried any of those dishes. And, you honestly can’t recall any language from our time in Paris?”

“Just the important stuff. _Plus de café s'il vous plaît_.” Jane's pronunciation was rough, but her syntax was correct.

“And what about when you aren’t asking politely for more coffee?”

“Oh, I managed just fine. Leave me alone.” Jane nudged at Maura with her elbow.

Maura laughed and they made their way back onto the ice, mingling with the other family members until the announcement came over the loudspeaker that it was time for the couple’s skate. This was welcome news to Maura, as her feet were truly beginning to ache, so she began to make her way to the exit.

Until she heard, “Hey, Maura!”

As she turned, it was impossible to miss Giovanni heading right for her until he dug his blades into the ice, stopping next to her. “Hello, Giovanni.”

“It’s been a while!”

“It has,” Maura confirmed, trying to appear casual as she looked past his tall frame for any sign of Jane.

“I heard Jane’s been out of town. You two are still… you know… together?”

“We _are_ , yes,” Jane answered, effortlessly circling around him to pull herself into Maura’s side.

“Aw, man. Long distance, must be rough.”

While Maura did have her own struggles with Jane being so far away, it wasn’t the same as what he was asking. Because he was asking about a romantic relationship that didn’t exist. “We’re managing.”

“Hey, well, I’d love to chat and stuff, but I gotta get back to my girl. She’s real exotic, from California.” Before he could get into any more detail, someone screeched his name from the bleachers. “Yeah, Trina, be right there, babe!” He looked back at Jane and Maura. “Her feet hurt, so she wants me to carry her to the car. You know how it goes.” With a wink, he tossed them his usual, “You both look hot!” and then skated away.

“He certainly is always…”

“An enormous pain in the ass?” Jane offered.

“I was going to say unique.”

“You sure you don’t want to couple skate?” It was a joke, but Jane probably would do it if Maura wanted to.

“I think I’d like a cup of coffee,” Maura replied.

But when she exited into the stands, she didn’t even make an effort to head toward the snack bar. Instead, she sat in the established Rizzoli section and began to unlace her skates. With the way her feet hurt, she feared her socks might be soaked with blood, but as she carefully eased her feet free, they were simply sweaty. There was a sign of relief and she began to flex her ankles, now investigating for any sign of serious bruising.

“Uh oh,” Frankie had just stepped off the ice and noticed Maura favoring her feet. “You okay?”

“Yes, of course. I’m just stretching.” It wasn’t really a lie, because Maura was fine, as far as being free of any serious injury and she was, in fact, stretching her flexor digitorum brevis.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Jane.”

“Tell me what?”

“Uh, that Maura got you… a present!” Frankie frantically looked back at Maura, but he was almost worse about lying than she was, so he just shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas, dumbass. It’s kind of the idea.”

“Don’t call your brother names,” Angela reprimanded.

It figured that everyone would be exiting the rink at the same time, leaving Maura no choice but to try and work her aching feet into her winter boots. Jane was on the bench next to her, swapping out her skates for shoes.

“Aren’t you all planning to stay longer?” Maura asked, hoping she hadn’t brought the afternoon to an end just because she’d planned poorly.

“We always duck out after couple skate, because then it’s the hokey pokey,” Tommy explained, tugging at the knots on TJ’s small skates.

Frankie nodded. “And Ma likes to get out before the traffic is too heavy.”

“That was your father,” said Angela. “But it was maybe one of his better ideas, to be honest.”

As everyone packed up and returned their skates to the rental window, Maura still sat, willing herself to pull her boots on. Jane returned with two cups of cheap snack bar coffee in hand.

“I noticed you never actually got any.” Jane set both drinks down on the bench.

“I hadn’t gotten to that point, yet.”

“Feet hurt?”

“Delayed onset muscle soreness is common after exercise, especially when trying something new.”

“And what about blisters that make putting on shoes feel like torture?”

Maura sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s your first time out here and you did great.”

“But…” As much as Maura didn’t want to hear Jane gloat, she’d certainly earned it.

“But… if you want me to carry you to the car, I’ll do it.” She slipped into Giovanni’s thick accent. “You know how it is.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to ask you to carry me.”

“It’s not that far, it’s just into the garage. We parked close.” Jane stood up, then slightly crouched.

“What are you doing?”

“Get on my back.”

“This is absurd.”

“It’s that or blister boots with you wincing every step.”

Maura considered the options. Being carried was embarrassing, but the thought of the feeling of the close fit of her boots was too much. She stood and hopped up, Jane’s arms catching under her knees as Maura settled on her back, holding Jane’s shoulders. “I don’t know that anyone’s ever carried me like this.”

“Okay, for a classy rich doctor, you really need to get out more.” Jane nodded to Frankie. “Hey, get those coffees, would you? And Tommy, grab her boots?”

If anyone thought it was an odd sight for a grown woman to ride piggy back out of a recreational skating rink, no one said anything. And once Maura’s self-consciousness had sufficiently abated, she found being carried in such a way strangely pleasant. Maybe because Jane made it seem so effortless; Maura felt stable and secure all the way to the car, just like she’d felt skating next to Jane on the ice.

When they’d made it to the Prius, Jane insisted, “I’m driving,” and crouched to let Maura climb down carefully next to the passenger’s side door. She winced a little as she touched the ground, the cold cement of the floor palpable through her socks. She handed Jane her keys, and Jane touched the handle to unlock the car and opened the door for Maura, giving her an arm to steady herself as she got in. Maura didn’t require it, but she appreciated it.

Tommy handed Maura her boots, and Jane took the coffees from Frankie, handing Maura hers once the boots had been tucked by her legs. Angela climbed into the back seat with no complaints, though she immediately reminded Jane to “Use your blinker,” almost as soon as the car had started.

Jane rolled her eyes and glanced at her mother in the rearview mirror, “Ma, please. Spare me the backseat driving.”

“I’ll stop giving you advice when I think you don’t need it anymore,” Angela replied stubbornly, and Jane glanced at Maura with an incredulous grin.

As Jane drove them home, Maura was hit with a wave of nostalgia. The winter sun was bright, and Jane had fished out a pair of Maura’s sunglasses from the center console. Though they weren’t her aviators, they evoked the image of Jane as a detective. That combined with the experience and sensation of being driven somewhere in her own car with the scent of coffee in the air made Maura remember, with what she supposed was an improper amount of fondness, making her way to a crime scene with Jane.

Maura, of course, still worked on crime scenes at times, though having more outlets of productivity so far was proving to be quite fulfilling. Working at Hope’s clinic could be exhausting, as living people were far more difficult to work with than dead ones, but it felt gratifying to be healing and nurturing to another human. And the experience of writing well-received fiction was like being told by a colleague that they had enjoyed your latest scientific article but, in a strange way, more flattering.

Maura’s life was full, and busy, and rewarding, but a selfish part of her wished that she still spent most of her days solving crimes with Jane Rizzoli.

Once they’d parked at Maura’s, Jane carried Maura back inside (after a brief back and forth about whether or not it was necessary), where she immediately sought out her foot basin. She took some time upstairs in her bedroom, soaking her feet in epsom salt and lavender water. At Maura’s insistence, Jane had left her alone.

By the time she slipped her soothed feet into a pair of flats and joined the family downstairs, Tommy and Jane were serving up grilled cheese sandwiches (one was practiced at making them for his five year old, the other was practiced at making them for herself). Angela dished out cups of thick tomato soup and everyone found a seat either at the breakfast bar or in the living room. Already, Frankie was connecting his iPhone to Maura’s smart tv and pulling up ridiculous YouTube videos of either people succumbing to gravity or humorous animal antics. This had been a regular occurrence at family dinners for a while, but now that Jane was present, suddenly everyone seemed to have a new viral video they wanted to pull up.

They were loud and ridiculous and argued about inane topics, but Maura realized she was incredibly fortunate to be part of this found family. Even if their traditions sometimes left her with sore feet and a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes.

* * *

 

After lunch, there was a break in Angela’s agenda for the day. Jane was glad that it stopped at her mother just telling everyone what to do next instead of any kind of printed schedule. In most cases, Maura was always a good influence, but anything that gave the Rizzoli matriarch more control over her children was always terrifying.

With dinner and a family trip to Christmas Eve mass planned for the evening, Jane retreated to her room for a moment of quiet. She’d texted back and forth a couple times with Cameron, but they hadn’t been in much contact beyond that. It only seemed fair that she check in with him when she had a few minutes to herself. He didn’t answer when she called, so she just sent another text and left it at that. Given how busy she’d been with her own family members, it was likely he was in a similar situation.

“May I come in?” came Maura’s voice from the doorway.

“Yeah, of course,” Jane replied, tossing the phone on the bed. Both her bags were open on the floor and Maura navigated around them. Jane could tell she was keeping her personal frustration with disorder to herself, at least for now. Out of guilt, she kicked one of the bags closed just to create the illusion of straightening up. “I haven’t unpacked, yet. And that one’s all presents.”

Maura peered into the suitcase that was still open. All the gifts were haphazardly wrapped in newspaper. “You certainly packaged them well for the flight. Did you want me to bring up some gift bags and paper?”

Jane squinted at her. “Uh, they’re already wrapped.” She picked up one of the packages. “See? To Tommy, From Jane.”

Maura took the gift in her hands and read beyond Jane’s thick Sharpie marker scrawl. “Body found in Delaware River presumed to be missing store clerk.”

“I recycled.”

There was a hum from Maura, maybe in agreement. But when Jane moved to take the present back from her, Maura pulled back. “I’m trying to read.”

“Only you would be interested in the dead guy on a Christmas gift.”

With a pointed look, Maura passed the package back to Jane’s waiting hands. “Joann will be here in about an hour.”

“With chicken?” Jane couldn’t help herself. Joann made amazing fried chicken.

“Yes, Jane,” Maura laughed. “But maybe try to restrain yourself from hoarding it?”

“I can’t make any promises.”

Maura was still chuckling, and in the beat of silence that followed when her laughter trailed off, Jane’s phone buzzed next to her on the bed. She glanced at it, enough to see that it was a text from Cameron. She read the word “Sorry” at the beginning of the text, then looked away, figuring the context clues, including the fact that he wasn’t calling, indicated that he was probably busy. When her gaze landed on Maura once more, she looked curious, almost mischievous. “Do you need me to leave you alone?” she asked. Her tone was lightly suggestive, and something about it made Jane bristle.

“Nah,” she said, standing up and shoving her phone in her pocket without looking at it. “Want to help me carry these down to the tree?”

“Certainly!”

“Wait!” Jane sorted through the gifts, making sure she was carrying Maura’s herself, and tucking one away, “Okay, any of the rest of these.”

Once everything had made it under the tree and TJ had finished deciphering who each gift was for and guessing what it was, Joann had arrived with dinner. And when everyone had finished eating, it was time to get washed up and changed for mass. Jane went upstairs to wash her face and hands and to change into the dress she’d packed at her mother’s insistence. As she pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket, she remembered Cameron’s text, which was him apologizing for missing her call and asking if she still had time to talk.

Jane felt bad for neglecting to read the whole message, but a part of her also felt like it was silly to text to ask if he could call. But she sent him an apology, explained she’d been having a busy day with her family, and that maybe they’d talk tomorrow. By the time they got out of mass, she’d probably be too tired to chat, she reasoned.

Downstairs, everyone was gathering and bundling up to prepare to go out into the cold night. Though they had typically attended midnight mass in the past, with TJ being so young, Angela had decided they could go the the eight o’clock. Jane was glad, however, because the excitement of the day had left her a little worn out, but happily so.

“Now, I don’t want anyone embarrassing me,” Angela was lecturing, “And by anyone, I mean you three,” she eyed Jane and her brothers.

“Really, Ma?” Frankie looked a little insulted.

“It wasn’t that long ago that Tommy farted during the Gospel reading and I couldn’t show my face there for months,” Angela insisted.

“That was like twenty years ago!” Tommy defended, “I know how to set a better example now.” He put a hand on his son’s head for emphasis. TJ was dancing in place impatiently, having been bundled up first.

“I hope that I won’t do anything wrong. I’ve never been to a Catholic mass,” Maura admitted to Jane.

“Really? Okay, count yourself lucky. Christmas Eve is one of the better ones.”

“Why do you say that?”

Jane shrugged, smiling a little. She didn’t particularly make church attendance a priority, and hadn’t even tried to find a church in DC to attend. Attending a service in the church she’d grown up in was different, because it wasn’t really about the piety for Jane, as her belief in God was almost entirely separate from the Catholic church these days. It was about the familiarity of the whole experience. There was comfort in the rituals, comfort in the way the individual priests intoned the words. Christmas Eve mass was one of the most comforting of all, because it was one the Rizzolis rarely missed, and because Jane liked the Christmas hymns. “It’s just a nice service. Less boring than a lot, because it’s a familiar story.”

“It is,” Maura agreed, “The story of a Messianic figure born of a virgin in the dead of winter who performed miracles, including resurrection, is a common religious trope. Though in this case, the date is inaccurate. The true Jesus of Nazareth was probably born in the spring. If he even existed at all, that is.”

“Don’t let my mother hear you say any of that,” Jane side-eyed her and placed her hands on Maura’s back, urging her out the door.

They all headed to church together in a procession of cars, and as they arrived and clustered inside, Jane immediately felt the sense of solemnity and optimism. Just ahead of her, the usher was handing Tommy a program and offering TJ a children’s program, which had activities to help kids stay quiet during the less stimulating parts of the service. Jane accepted her own program and reached past the usher to grab the children’s version for herself. “You know, in case he loses his,” she whispered, pointing to TJ. The usher merely responded with a bemused smile, and Maura accepted her own standard program graciously and followed Jane into the sanctuary.

The extended Rizzoli clan filled a pew all by themselves, and jostled each other until they were spread across it, each trying to find a way to sit comfortably on the hard surface. Jane picked up the hymnal and the worship book to show Maura what they’d need to reference to follow along in the service, and saw, near the other end of the pew, Tommy doing the same with TJ under Angela’s watchful gaze. Next to her, Nina was glancing through one herself, and Maura, noticing, asked, “Is this your first mass, too?”

“Yeah,” Nina admitted, “My family was one of those Christmas and Easter only attendees. I don’t even know what denomination to call us, but it wasn’t this...formal.”

“Then it was probably more fun,” Frankie muttered, and Jane snickered. Angela shot them a warning glance, even though the service hadn’t even begun.

Jane pressed her lips together, sitting back. “Just follow my lead,” she muttered to Maura, “Except when I tell you not to.”

It was easy to fall into the old habits as the organist began to play a Christmas hymn. The opening of the service hadn’t changed, and Jane fell easily into the call and response patterns and when to stand or kneel and tried to listen to the priests. Maura followed her lead, though she wasn’t speaking along with the rest of the congregation, just observing with a keen expression.

But by the time the readings began, though, Jane was starting to get restless. The readings were familiar, though the Old Testament stuff was kind of boring on Christmas, and the archaic language just made it that much less interesting. She noticed TJ’s attention also starting to wane, and Tommy was giving him one of the small pencils from the holder on the back of the pew in front of them so he could start doing the activities in his kid’s program. Jane flipped open her own, and Maura’s attention shifted from the biblical readings to Jane as she started doodling a ski hat on Joseph’s head in the depiction of the manger scene.

Maura seemed to be trying to pay attention to the priest, but the distraction of Jane’s drawing was too great. Sensing her interest, Jane passed her the tiny half pencil she’d been using, and Maura added a cartoonish slice of pizza in one of the hands of the angel hovering over the manger. Jane stifled a chuckle. “I bring you tidings of great joy. Unto you, a pizza is delivered,” she whispered, which made Maura smile in a way that lit up her eyes.

By the time Jane had the pencil again, the readings were done and the sermon was beginning. This was always the dullest part for Jane as a child, and in many respects, her attention span at church hadn’t improved much. As she began detailing the shepherd’s crook she was turning into a lamp, she noticed Frankie leaning forward, and caught his eye. He looked pointedly at the children’s program they were decorating, and Jane passed it to Nina, who merely suppressed a grin and passed it to Frankie.

Frankie appeared to be giving the sheep in the scene mohawks, though Jane couldn’t quite tell and didn’t want to lean conspicuously over Nina’s lap to check. And before long, Tommy was watching, and then taking it himself. Jane couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he turned to show TJ, who was leaning over curiously, Angela snatched it from his hand. She leaned forward far enough to glare right at Jane, who balked in indignation. But Angela wasn’t fooled, and maintained the stern glare as she crumpled the children’s program in one fist. The family in the pew ahead of them shifted, awkwardly, glancing over their shoulders, and Angela mouthed an apology and shot a final hard look at Jane, who struggled to keep a straight face. As she sat back, Ron patted her hand sympathetically, though Jane could tell from his expression that he, too, was trying not to smile.

Frankie caught her eye as they sat back and pretended to pay attention to the homily, and then each spent about half a minute shaking with silent laughter, while Nina and Maura looked on. Luckily, they gained control of themselves before Angela noticed.

After another recitation, the ushers began to pass the offering plate. Angela leaned forward and hissed, “I hope you all brought offering money!” She was, again, forced to apologize to the row in front of her, who shifted and faced forward haughtily.

Jane’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought to put her wallet in the little clutch she was carrying, mostly just to hold her phone and ID. She exchanged glances with her brothers, and it was clear that neither of them had thought to bring any cash, either.

But before Angela could get really riled up about it, Maura was opening her purse. “I have cash,” she murmured, “I got some out before the bank holiday.”

“Maura, you don’t have to do that,” Jane muttered back, “The church doesn’t need your money.”

“It’s not for the Catholic Church,” Maura reasoned, shoving a twenty into Jane’s hand, “It’s for Angela.” She leaned over Jane’s lap to thrust two more crisp bills at Frankie, indicating he should give one to Tommy. Angela looked surprised, and cast a grateful look at Maura, who didn’t appear to notice as she sat back next to a still incredulous Jane.

The collection plate was coming down their row. “That’s sixty bucks,” Jane stated, watching her brothers drop in the bills they were given.

“Oh! Let me get more,” Maura was reaching back into her purse as Jane dropped in her money and took the plate, and she stilled Maura’s hands with one of her own, passing the plate past Maura to the usher with what she hoped was a disarming grin. The usher took it, glanced at them uncertainly, and moved on. Maura closed her purse, seeming disappointed, but Jane wasn’t going to let Maura give so much to an institution she certainly hadn’t contributed to in years, save the occasional quarter to light a candle for someone.

Especially given that Maura, she soon learned, had never even had to memorize the Lord’s Prayer.

And after that, people were filing out of the pews toward the front of the sanctuary for the eucharist. “You have to stay here,” Jane explained quietly.

Maura’s brow furrowed, “Why?”

“Because only church members are allowed to take communion.”

Maura looked affronted, “The blood sugar boost is restricted? That hardly seems fair.”

“That’s because it’s not supposed to be a snack. Besides, you’re not missing much. The wafer tastes like cardboard and the wine like vinegar, but hey, it’s alcohol.”

Maura still frowned, and she and Nina exchanged an awkward glance as the Rizzolis stood up from their row. TJ, who wasn’t quite old enough, stayed in his seat, attention focused on his program. Nina scooted down to sit with him, and as Jane passed by, she noticed he was drawing glasses and a mustache on the baby Jesus in his manger scene. She suppressed laughter.

After communion, which was just as flavorless as Jane remembered, the lights went down, the church’s youth filled the sanctuary holding lit candles, and the congregation sang Silent Night. Jane remembered having to be one of those kids. There was probably still candle wax embedded in the carpet from that time. But it was probably one of her favorite things about the service. The low lights inside made the stained glass seem to glow from the streetlights outside, the candlelight felt magical. And everyone singing a familiar Christmas song together brought that feeling of unity and hope that was often missing from services for Jane.

She smiled at Maura when the song ended and the lights came back up, feeling so moved that so much of her family was here to feel this with her. Maura smiled back, and they touched hands, briefly, still feeling the power of the music.

The priest stood up and spread his arms. The service was ending soon, Jane knew. In his creaky voice, he intoned, “In the name of the Father, and the Son, and--”

Though he continued to speak, he was drowned out for a moment by a loud rumbling fart from further down the Rizzoli pew. Though most other parishioners were too polite to look (though the woman in front of Angela uttered an affronted gasp), everyone in the Rizzoli pew spun to look at Tommy who, wide-eyed, slowly turned to stare down at his son.

TJ was shaking with giggles. Frankie caught Jane’s eye and said, just loud enough for the whole row to hear, “Guess that is Tommy’s kid.”

Angela put her head in her hands, but everyone else was muffling giggles, shaking right alongside the youngest Rizzoli.

As soon as the priest dismissed them, Angela stood. “Come on, we’re leaving,” she called, pushing at Tommy. Jane stood, immediately placing her hand on Maura’s shoulder to urge her to move.

Maura took just a moment to gather her things, but already the rest of the row was crowding behind her. “What’s the hurry?” she asked.

“Ma’s _livid_ ,” Jane replied with relish. She and her brothers still wore huge grins and giggled intermittently as they hurried down the side aisle of the sanctuary.

They hurried past the priests at the doorway, waiting to shake hands a speak with parishioners on their way out (the gauntlet of holy men had always reminded Jane of having to shake hands with the opposing team after a sports match). “Lovely service, thank you!” Jane called as she and Maura led the group out. Even Angela seemed too embarrassed to stop and chat with any of the priests, and just continued to herd her family out.

As they moved across the parking lot to their cars, Angela was proclaiming, “Never in my life have I been so embarrassed!” She held up TJ’s children’s program, “Look at the influence you all have on him! Defacing the baby Jesus!” For his part, TJ wore a smug grin. Already he knew it was impossible for his grandmother to be mad at him.

“Ma, we’re good kids, and so is TJ,” Jane reminded her, still unable to stop grinning.

Angela set her jaw in annoyance. “You’re good kids until the _instant_ I bring you into the Lord’s house,” she insisted. Jane couldn’t exactly refute that. Church and Rizzolis had never mixed well, and one of them had even gone to jail because of it.

She hoped that, once they got home, Angela would have cooled down some, especially since Ron had seemed amused by the family’s antics, and would likely talk her down. But Jane had forgotten about one little thing.

“ _Why_ ,” Angela thundered as Jane and Maura followed the rest of the family inside the house, “is there a brontosaurus standing over the Baby Jesus, Jane Clementine?!” Her arm was outstretched, her finger pointed at her old nativity scene, in the midst of which TJ’s brontosaurus stood, right where Jane had left him.

Jane pressed her lips together, struggling to keep a straight face. Frankie and Tommy’s grins had already lit up. “I dunno, Ma. Looks like he’s keeping an eye on him.”

“I don’t know why you all have the urge to _vandalize_ the nativity scene, _every year_ ,” Angela complained, and though Jane could tell she wasn’t really that mad (it was, after all, a traditional family prank), she was also running out of patience. “Everyone, _to bed_!” Angela demanded.

Frankie and Nina glanced at each other and shrugged. Frankie said, “Alright then, guess we’ll be going. See you in the morning.” They exchanged hugs with everyone, and Frankie kissed Angela’s cheek when she stood with her arms folded, then she reluctantly hugged him. Tommy began unpacking and setting up an air mattress in Maura’s living room; he and TJ were going to stay the night, and TJ was convinced he was going to catch Santa.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite having been ordered to bed, everyone spending the night in the main house was still awake, save for TJ who had fallen asleep rather quickly once everything had settled down. Tommy was trying to wrap some last minute gifts from Santa in Maura’s study, Jane had gone to take a long shower, while Maura meditated in her yoga room. She’d done a few poses in an effort to stretch the muscles that still ached from the day’s trip to the skating rink. The sooner she could get back into her heels, the happier she’d be.

The light exercise and subsequent meditation had her relaxed enough that she wasn’t sure how long Jane had been standing in the doorway.

“You usually have no qualms about interrupting. Are you feeling okay?” Maura teased, still holding her seated pose.

Jane shrugged and padded across the extra large mat that covered the floor. “Guess I was just thinking about how I haven’t done yoga since I moved. Probably because you’re not around to boss me into it.”

“I am _not_ bossy,” Maura gasped. “ _You_ just have to be strongly convinced.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane dropped into a seated position that was not at all any kind of yoga posture, her legs akimbo, as she held something in her hands. “So, it’s after midnight and officially Christmas, and I wanted to give you this.”

“You don’t want to put it under the tree?” Maura asked.

“Not this one. It’s… just open it.”

Maura eased into a more relaxed position, accepting the newspaper wrapped gift from Jane. It had some weight to it, but it wasn’t very big. “Should I get something for you to open?”

Jane groaned, impatient. “Maura, it’s not a big deal. I just didn’t think it was appropriate in front of TJ.”

That was enough to make Maura tilt her head in curiosity. She pulled at the paper, which came off easily enough, and revealed a navy blue coffee mug with the same yellow and white lettering as the _Female Boob Inspector_ t-shirt Jane had accidently brought back from her first visit to Quantico. “Should I be expecting naughty novelty FBI accessories for all major gift giving holidays?” she asked.

“Oh, come on. I just thought it was funny,” Jane said, reaching for the cup. “Especially after our trip.”

But Maura held it away from her. “You’re right. It’s actually rather fitting, given that I’m both female and someone who appreciates breasts.”

When Jane had presented her with the t-shirt, nearly a year ago, they hadn’t ever had a formal conversation about Maura’s interest in women. At that point in time, she wasn’t actively pursuing relationships with women, though she certainly enjoyed their attention and wasn’t opposed to dating someone of the same sex. Attending an all-girls boarding school had certainly led her to a few crushes on schoolmates and she’d identified as bisexual during her undergrad years at BCU, but that part of her identity had become seemingly irrelevant when she’d become involved with Garrett Fairfield and her sexuality overall had become increasingly less relevant as she prepared to enter medical school. Once she emerged on the other side with an M.D. after her name, she was still open to anyone who piqued her interest, but other than a woman she’d dated briefly toward the end of her twenties, Maura had found men to be easier to connect with in the casual way she’d come to prefer. It wasn’t until she’d met Jane that she really began to feel the stir of potential.

“It’s dumb,” Jane decided.

“It is not,” Maura countered, again keeping the mug out of Jane’s reach so she couldn’t take it back.

“Well, you don’t have to use it.”

“Hey,” Tommy’s hushed voice came from the hall as he backed into the room, dragging a box with him. “You have to help me with this.”

“No, we weren’t talking or anything,” said Jane.

Her sarcasm went unnoticed as Tommy dumped the contents of the box onto the yoga mat. “I have to get this bike put together before TJ wakes up.”

Jane shifted her legs to avoid being hit by a bicycle wheel. “Why did you wait until right now to start on it?”

“When did I have time?” he muttered, rifling through the parts, trying to figure out which pieces to start with. “I was working. I got a kid. I got Ma asking me to hang lights or run to the store or--”

“Okay,” Jane cut him off. “I get it.”

“Living this close is great for TJ but sometimes I wish I could tell her I was busy.”

Jane shrugged as she sorted through the parts that were now spread across the mat. “You could lie.”

Tommy laughed, but it was desperate. “To Ma? Right and then she’ll run into me somewhere and I’ll get an earful, anyway.”

“Why not just explain to her that you need firmer boundaries?” asked Maura. It had always seemed to her that this would resolve many of the Rizzoli family arguments that seemed to surface.

Jane scoffed. “Oh, like the time you let her hold Lydia’s baby shower in the living room?”

“Or,” Tommy added, not even looking up from the pieces he was screwing together, “when you let me live with Ma in the guest house even though you had a one guest rule?”

“But those circumstances were…” Maura searched for a definitive reason why she’d made exceptions, but the way both Jane and Tommy were now looking at her, like she’d finally just understood the punchline of a joke, made her realize she was just as much involved in this family as any one of them. “I’ll go get my tool kit.”

If Maura had been forced to guess (which she would have only done under severe and intense pressure from one Jane Rizzoli), she would have estimated that a child’s bicycle assembly by a certified genius, a decorated detective, and a member of a respected blue collar trade union to take approximately thirty minutes. She would have been wrong (which was why she avoided guessing, altogether). It took nearly two hours to assemble the bike, meaning the three of them finally went to bed somewhere around four in the morning.

Maura fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day’s activities and the late night teamwork exercise. She’d barely made it through a full REM cycle when she awoke to clatter coming from downstairs, then the sound of small feet running up, then back down the stairs. This was the first Christmas holiday she’d spent with a child since she’d been one herself and she deduced that returning to sleep was not going to be likely. She forced herself out of the warm, inviting bed and into the bathroom where she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail. In some version of her expectations for this morning, she’d had time to shower and select a cute holiday outfit. That would have to come later. She opted for a sweater and pair of patterned lounge pants as her wardrobe for the first wave of holiday activities, which were breakfast and opening gifts, then made her way downstairs. Angela stood over the stove, making pancakes for the second day in a row. Tommy, who looked like he hadn’t even slept at all, was in the process of packing up the air mattress so it wasn’t in the way.

“Aunt Maura’s up! Look!” TJ said, waving his arm at her. “Can I open something _now_?” He asked, tugging at Tommy.

“Hold on, bud. Let’s eat, first.”

TJ sagged, but still shuffled his way over to Angela. “How long ‘til it’s ready?”

“Just a few minutes. Maybe you and Maura can go see what’s keeping Jane.”

“Probably high delta wave activity,” mused Maura as she served herself a cup of coffee.

“What’s a delta wave?” asked TJ. “Is it surfing? Can I have some of that juice?” He pointed at the carton of orange juice that sat on the counter.

“It’s part of the deep sleep process. Not like surfing. And yes, you may.” Maura poured about half of a plastic cup with a Transformer on the side of it and handed it down to him.

He took a couple gulps and then wiped as his mouth with his hand in a motion that reminded Maura a lot of Jane. “Can we go get her?”

“Yes, but we should have a strategy,” Maura suggested, grabbing a second coffee cup and filling it.

TJ’s brow wrinkled. “What’s a strategy?”

“A plan, kiddo,” Tommy answered.

“Yes. We’ll give her incentive to get out of bed.” At TJ’s blank look, Maura clarified, “A reason. Something she wants.” She held up the cup of coffee.

TJ cast a glance toward the Christmas tree, as if to remind Maura that there was plenty of incentive right there, but ultimately began hurrying toward the staircase. After looking over his shoulder a few times to make sure Maura was following, he starting running up the stairs.

When Maura made it to the top of the staircase, TJ had the door to the guest room cracked open and was peeking in. Maura was about to tell him that they should wake her gently when he abruptly dashed into the room and dove onto the bed shouting, “Aunt Jane! It’s Christmas!”

Jane sat bolt upright as TJ landed next to her, eyes huge, arms reaching for him automatically. Once she’d grabbed him, he started laughing, and in moments, they were both laughing as Jane lightly wrestled with him. “Jeez, TJ, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Jane growled playfully as TJ giggled.

In a moment, she caught sight of Maura by the door, and she smiled, “Morning. He wake you, too?”

“Indirectly,” Maura replied. She lifted the mug. “I have coffee.”

“Oh, thank God,” Jane murmured, reaching out a hand. Maura approached her bedside and, with TJ still half on her lap, Jane took her first sip, nearly groaning in pleasure.

“What’s coffee taste like?” TJ asked as he rolled onto his back.

Jane took another sip. “It tastes good, once you’re used to it,” she told him.

“Can I try it?”

Jane glanced at Maura and shrugged. “Sure. It’s hot,” she warned, blowing on it and then holding the mug steady as TJ carefully sat up and took a small sip.

“Hmm,” he said uncertainly, “It tastes kind of like...old chocolate.”

Maura brightened, “There are definitely cocoa flavor notes in this roast,” she agreed.

Jane looked at her, incredulous and amused, as she took another sip. “It just tastes like coffee,” she argued, smirking.

But before Maura could debate with her over whether her nephew’s palate was more refined, TJ interrupted, “Okay, you have your coffee, can we go downstairs? Grandma’s making breakfast. And it’s _Christmas_ ,” he reminded them, his impatience reminding Maura every bit of his Aunt Jane.

“Sure,” Jane agreed, and though the exhaustion in her voice was evident, she handed the coffee back to Maura and climbed out of bed, pulling on a sweatshirt while TJ waited by the door.

TJ hurried down the stairs, at least grabbing the handrail after Jane warned him to be careful, but she and Maura took their time. Once out of the dim light of Jane’s bedroom, Maura could see that the shirt Jane had worn to sleep in was similar to her others--old, thin and starting to develop holes. “TJ’s palate may be quite remarkable,” Maura told Jane, “Perhaps he is a supertaster.”

“Or maybe he just doesn’t know how else to describe coffee,” Jane argued playfully as they made their way into the kitchen.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Angela called.

“Merry Christmas, Ma.” Jane succumbed to a kiss on the cheek from her mother.

TJ was growing more and more restless. “ _Now_ can I open something?”

“I told you,” Tommy’s tone was tired, “after we eat.”

“Maybe he could at least open his stocking?” Angela offered. “That used to keep you kids occupied while your father and I tried to keep our sanity.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” TJ bounced his way over to the mantle where the stockings were now loaded with small gifts and candy. Tommy pulled down the one with TJ’s name on it and handed it to him.

“But eat breakfast before you eat anything that’s in here,” he warned, before letting go.

With TJ sated for the moment, the adults enjoyed their coffee at the kitchen island, Jane and Tommy both sneaking hits from the whipped cream canister.

“That’s for the hot chocolate!” Angela snatched the can from Jane and forcefully placed it back on the counter.

“Come on, we were up late putting together a b-i-k-e for,” Tommy nodded at TJ, who was currently occupied with dumping the contents of a small LEGO kit onto the coffee table.

Maura assisted Angela by retrieving a tray of turkey bacon that had been crisping in the oven. “Protein would be a better boost than sugar and trace amounts of nitrous oxide.”

“Fine, give me the bacon,” Jane reached across the counter for it, but Angela rapped her hand with the spatula.

“Don’t grab,” she scolded, “Wait to be served.”

“When has _that_ ever been a rule?” she complained, rubbing her knuckles. Maura handed her the first plate of turkey bacon to cheer her up. She noticed that Jane didn’t complain that it wasn’t pork bacon. She wasn’t sure if she’d managed to expand Jane’s tastes after many years’ worth of effort, or if Jane was just too tired to notice or care.

Soon, TJ had emptied his stocking and was sitting at the table with his breakfast, though he was so excited about all his other presents that he was eating much more slowly than normal, because he kept looking over his shoulder at the gifts under the tree. Angela was taking her time with the bunny pancakes, since they were still waiting for Frankie, Nina and Ron to show up.

Ron showed up before too long, though he had already eaten and was content just to socialize. By the time Frankie and Nina showed up, most people were finished eating.

“What? We missed breakfast?” Frankie complained, “It’s only a few minutes after seven.” Which was when they had been told to show up.

“You forget, Christmas starts early for kids,” Tommy nodded toward TJ, who had dashed over to the tree.

“They’re here!” TJ shouted, “Is it time for presents?”

There was sympathy on Jane’s face. “The kid’s about to implode, Ma.”

“Okay, fine,” Angela gave in. She served Frankie and Nina their plates of food at the breakfast counter, while everyone else settled in the living room.

Maura shared the couch with Jane and Tommy, situating herself on the end, next to the arm. Already, things were far more hectic than they had been in previous years. The past several Christmases had been spent here, at her home, with Jane, Angela, and Frankie. But those had been casual holidays, usually starting with a light brunch before the gift exchange. With TJ and Tommy having moved back, plus Nina and Ron extending the family, things had doubled before she even accounted for how much a kindergartner amplified everything.

She hadn’t realized she’d apparently been slightly withdrawn from all the activity until Jane asked, “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Maura assured her, though a quick personal assessment showed she was tightly pressed into the corner of the couch. “I think I’m possibly overstimulated and, as you know, I didn’t get much sleep.”

Jane offered a reassuring pat on the knee. “Trust me, I’m demanding a nap time once all these presents are opened.”

Maura’s hand fell on top of Jane’s, squeezing in thanks, then a gift was thrust into her lap as TJ helped distribute the presents from under the tree. In the past, when it had just been Maura and three Rizzolis, the gift opening was leisurely. Whatever was happening now was a frenzied event, with multiple conversations over the sounds of tearing paper. To keep the unexpected anxiety she was feeling at bay, Maura focused on opening her present from Jane. There had been no attempt to disguise the obvious shape of the wine bottle that made up the first of the three packages. But she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was a vintage and winery of notable quality.

“I read about it in Forbes magazine,” Jane explained, probably because of the pleased look she was getting from Maura.

“You read Forbes?”

“I am an adult, you know. And it was in the waiting room at the dentist.”

The next package was flat and rectangular, with a headline about a car theft ring right below her name. Inside was a beautiful leather bound wine journal, designed to provide the amateur sommelier with a place to record notes about a wine’s flavor notes and other details. In short, it was a perfect, simple gift for Maura.

“This is amazing, thank you,” Maura leaned her shoulder against Jane, the best attempt at a thank you hug she could give in her current situation.

Jane bumped her shoulder gently in reply. “You still have one more gift.”

As Maura began to open the gift, she heard Angela across the room ask, “Jane? What is this?” And as she tore the newspaper off her own gift, she quickly saw that whatever Angela held, she now also held.

“It’s a tactical pen, Ma, I got one for all the girls,” Jane explained as TJ handed Jane an envelope with her name on it. She was momentarily distracted by the envelope, which was lettered “To Jane, From Maura” in Maura’s neat script, but then she explained to Angela, “It’s a pen, a weapon and a glassbreaker all in one.” She glanced at Maura, “There’s another tactical implement in your gift, though.”

“Oh?” Maura asked and she sifted through the newspaper to look for it. She found what looked like an ordinary mechanical pencil and she frowned at it.

“It’s from the FBI,” Jane explained in a low voice, “And the eraser? It’s actually a microphone.”

“Really?” Maura asked, examining the eraser closely, “Does it connect to my phone via bluetooth?”

Jane blinked. “Yes. Yes it does,” she spoke clearly, but the tone gave something away.

“Wait,” Maura eyed her, “Does it?”

“It’s just a pencil, Maura,” Jane murmured with a grin.

“You pranked me! On Christmas!” Maura bumped Jane again, harder this time, and her exclamation was enough to draw the attention of most of the room.

“What’s that?” TJ asked.

“It’s a pencil I tried to convince Maura was a secret recording device,” Jane looked smug. Her family groaned and shook their heads in amusement.

TJ took the pencil from Maura and spoke into the eraser, “Merry Christmas,” and held it up to his ear. He looked up at Maura, “I think it’s working fine,” he told her.

Maura grinned. “Thank you, TJ.” And though the room was still crazy and loud, the moment of levity had been enough to distract her for a moment. She focused back on Jane. “Aren’t you going to open that?”

“Yeah,” Jane said, turning the envelope over. “I thought that my lodging was your present?”

“Given that I’m not paying for a hotel, that hardly seems fair.”

“This is better than a hotel anyway,” Jane agreed as she opened the envelope.

Inside was a card in which Maura had written, “This week we will be attending a Bruins game and a show. Merry Christmas.”

Jane’s eyes were wide. “You got Bruins tickets?”

“Yes,” Maura felt herself smiling at Jane’s reaction. “Do you like it?”

“Yes! I don’t even know what the show is but _**yes**_.” Jane managed to angle herself to pull Maura in for a hug, but it was short-lived, because her family was now opening gifts that were an assortment of Boston teams merchandise and were loudly calling their thanks, and Jane was excitedly gushing over the team shirts and hats. “I wanted to make sure everyone in the family had something!” She gazed affectionately at TJ, who was pulling a Red Sox cap onto his head.

Maura frowned, “I don’t think I have any Boston sports teams apparel.”

Jane turned and stared. “Really? Wait. _Really_? Okay, never mind. I should have realized that. I’ll be right back.”

Jane dashed upstairs and was back before too long with a Red Sox cap in her hand. She handed it to Maura. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”

“Where did you get this?” Maura asked, before remembering decorum, “Thank you.”

Jane shrugged, “I was going to take it back to DC, but you need it far more. I can’t believe you’ve lived here for how long? And you don’t own a Sox cap. That’s just wrong.” But she was smiling.

Maura wasn’t in the habit of wearing baseball caps, but it was always wise to display the appropriate accessories for certain occasions. She fell into a brief moment of sadness in realizing the best place to wear this hat would be at a Red Sox game, but she wasn’t about to attend one without Jane and Jane lived several hundred miles away. But then, “Would this be acceptable to wear to the Bruins game?”

Jane nodded. “Of course. Boston loves Boston. Just don’t show up in a Yankees cap.” There was a lean-in for emphasis. “Ever.”

“Understood,” Maura chuckled.

The buzz from the gift opening frenzy had died down and most of the adults had taken to conversation while TJ worked on taking most of his new toys out of their packaging. Angela was lightly grilling Jane on her life’s details and Frankie was doing his best to try and deflect the conversation when it was apparent Jane needed a break. Eventually, Jane excused herself to take her gifts up to her room and Maura remembered the comment about naptime.

“I think I’ll go shower and get dressed,” she said, smiling at her extended found family members. She followed Jane up and once they were at the top of the stairs, she asked, “How long do you need?”

“Maybe an hour or so?” Jane replied.

Maura nodded and they separated. Once she was in her room, she immediately set an alarm for ten o’clock, then succumbed to the softness of her organic down comforter. The only indication that she’d drifted to sleep, at all, was the way she jolted awake at the sensation of someone else sitting on the bed. It was Jane, her clothes fresh and hair damp, who was now lying across the foot of Maura’s bed.

“Everything okay?” Maura asked.

“They won’t leave me alone.” Jane’s voice was even scratchier than its usual raspy quality. “Can I sleep here? They respect your boundaries more than mine.”

“You may.” Maura was about to invite Jane to realign herself and lie on a proper half of the bed, but she was well aware that moving a sleepy Jane RIzzoli was a major feat. “Here,” she tossed a pillow down to her, then adjusted her own position just enough so she didn’t risk kicking Jane in the head.

Jane accepted the pillow with a grunt, then tucked it under her head before patting Maura’s shin in thanks. Maura was positive Jane was asleep within seconds because her hand didn’t move after that moment. It felt warm through the light fabric of Maura’s lounge pants and, perhaps being fixated on the sensation of that warmth is what helped usher in a second wave of sleep. This time, she napped until the alarm sounded.

When Maura woke, she silenced the alarm within four notes of the selected ringtone and decided she felt revived, but Jane was still lightly snoring. Figuring there was no need to wake her, just yet, Maura carefully eased off the bed and headed into the bathroom to shower. By the time she’d finished and crossed back through the bedroom toward the closet, Jane was awake, her hair more wild than usual from having dried while she slept on it.

“Morning,” Jane grunted, her gaze settling somewhere on the towel wrapped around Maura, looking vaguely perplexed.

“Did you rest well?” Maura asked.

“Yeah,” Jane blinked, seeming marginally more alert. “Good nap.” She looked feline, with her lanky form stretched across the bed and her leonine hair.

Maura headed toward her closet. Jane wasn’t particularly verbose yet. “I’m going to get changed. Korsak and Kiki will probably be here soon.”

“Right,” Jane rasped, climbing unsteadily off the bed. “Thanks,” she said as she headed toward the door.

“You’re welcome,” Maura closed the closet door and put on the cute and coordinated Christmas outfit she had been planning to wear that day. At least she was prepared for the second round of Christmas merriment.

When she made it downstairs, Jane was standing with a cup of coffee next to the kitchen island, while Frankie, Nina, Angela and Ron sat or stood nearby and chatted. A glance into the living room showed why they had left the comfortable furniture. Amid his new toys, TJ had fallen asleep on the couch, and Tommy was dozing in an armchair, his new Bruins hat pulled down over his eyes.

Maura approached the coffee pot, and was able to discern by the scent that it was relatively fresh. Angela must’ve brewed some, she thought, noting that almost everyone had a mug.

She joined Jane next to the coffee maker, pouring some for herself. Jane smiled, still not seeming quite awake. Maura excused herself with her coffee before too long, figuring it she’d better call her parents before it got too late in their time zone. There had been Christmases, before she’d found a place in the Rizzoli family, when she’d traveled to see them for the holiday, though that had been awkward, as so much had been unresolved with her father. Some Christmases had just been herself and Constance. Maura had come to prefer Rizzoli Christmases, with all their chaos and warmth. Her parents weren’t religious, so it wasn’t that important a holiday for them anyway. But it was nice to check in with them via phone.

After Maura made it back downstairs, the subdued atmosphere didn’t last much longer, as more guests began showing up. Their arrival woke up TJ and Tommy, and TJ seemed refreshed and excited about Christmas once again. But even TJ’s high energy didn’t bother Maura as much as it had that morning. Maybe because she had napped, but she thought it was mostly because they were preparing for a big family meal, and that was something that happened regularly enough in her home that she knew what to expect. In contrast, her expectations hadn’t prepared her for the seemingly anarchic Christmas morning.

TJ was excited because he was expecting a gift from everyone who came to the house that day. They’d already made Korsak promise not to get TJ an animal, but nonetheless, everyone tensed up when Korsak handed TJ a box with holes punched in the top. Tommy looked pale and nervous as TJ opened the gift and shouted, “Cool! What is it?”

“A remote control drone, kid,” Korsak responded amiably before shooting a “gotcha!” look at Angela.

“That’s so cool!”

Korsak chuckled, and turned his attention to Jane, who was opening her gift. Maura had helped this gift become a reality, and she watched Jane keenly as well. As the paper fell away, and Jane’s mouth fell open, she, Korsak and Kiki exchanged gleeful grins.

“Wow. Really? Wow,” Jane said. She turned the objects over in her hands. “How did you get these?”

“BPD was able to reissue them,” Korsak explained, “It didn’t seem right that they were lost forever in the fire.”

Jane wordlessly held up the plaques to Maura, as if she wanted verification that they could be real. They were the commendations Jane had received while on the force, the ones that had hung in her apartment until the fire. Maura had supposed she’d never considered that she could get them remade, and she felt proud that they could hang in Jane’s new home. “This is amazing, thank you,” Jane said, her voice thick with emotion. It was gratifying to witness.

Dinner preparations were soon underway. Angela was adept at wrangling her family into helping, and Tommy was teaching TJ how to set the table. And it was comfortable, and happy, and Maura was surrounded by people she loved.

And having Jane there made everything even more delightful. Maura had felt her absence at many a recent family dinner, but now, getting to watch her tease her brothers, hold TJ in her lap, and have a long talk with Korsak, Maura felt like the family was finally whole again.

And then, there was her own family. Hope and Cailin arrived maybe an hour after Korsak and Kiki, and Maura greeted them warmly. She and Hope had grown closer, particularly after working together a lot at the clinic the past year or so. For the most part, they had put the awkwardness of getting to know one another as adults behind them. Maura had forgiven Hope for many of her mistakes, for her loyalty to Paddy Doyle. As for Cailin, Maura was still figuring out how to have a sister, and it was awkward at times, but it no longer felt as competitive as it once had.

Though, they felt like a separate side of the family, and for a time, Maura worried that it might be awkward, trying to bridge the gap between families. This was a Rizzoli family meal, and they weren’t Rizzolis. But, maybe because it was Christmas, the merge seemed to happen naturally. Angela and Hope had met several times, of course, and Angela effortlessly made her feel welcome. And though Cailin could occasionally be shy, it didn’t take long for Maura to notice that Frankie was drawing her into conversation with himself and Tommy. Even Jane, who had openly disliked and distrusted Hope in the past, had seemed content to leave that behind back when Maura began truly reconnecting with Hope, and she seemed warm and genuine when she interacted with Maura’s biological mother and sister.

By the time they were sitting down to eat, Maura felt at peace with the crowd and the excitement, and she took a seat next to Jane after they’d helped Angela bring all the food to the table.

“Shall we say grace?” Angela prompted.

“Do we have to?” Jane murmured, eyeing the Christmas ham.

Angela shot her a fierce look, and grabbed the hands of those sitting next to her, and the rest of the table followed her lead.

Perhaps to placate Jane, it was a short prayer, mostly about how good it was to have the family together. Jane squeezed Maura’s hand before letting go and moving to serve herself potatoes while Angela started cutting into the ham.

“So, what’s new?” Korsak asked.

“Oh,” Frankie started right in as he grabbed the bread basket and held it for Nina to take a dinner roll, “we had this case where a guy killed his--”

“ _ **AH**_!” Angela interrupted.

Every Rizzoli head whipped in her direction, as if they were caught doing something wrong. “What, Ma?” asked Jane.

“No murder talk over Christmas dinner or you’ll have new stories for next year,” Angela warned, waving the carving knife.

Jane’s pouting was expected, but Maura was surprised to notice that Korsak also appeared disappointed. “How’s an old man supposed to get his kicks, then?” he teased.

“I’d say he should maybe ask his younger wife,” Kiki suggested, passing the green bean casserole to Maura.

As Maura geared up to change the topic to a procedure she’d assisted with at the clinic, Angela zeroed in on her. “No stories about open wounds, diseases, or surgeries, either.”

The table was devoid of conversation for a moment, with only the clinking and scraping of silverware on dishes.

Until Tommy spoke up. “I had an interesting job the other day.” His eyes were on Angela, who nodded in approval. Pipes, apparently, were safe. “It was a night call, so I was already charging double, but when I got there, this lady shows me a hallway full of backed up sewer water and it stunk like sh--”

“It’s probably a good time to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for!” Jane interrupted, trying to swing a kick at her youngest brother, under the table.

“Do you have a dog?” Cailin asked, peeking under the tablecloth.

“That’s at Thanksgiving, not Christmas,” Tommy shot back.

Jane quickly retracted her foot. “Well, I missed it.”

As those seated around the table began to share their gratitude, Maura found herself drifting as she considered how happy she was to have Jane back in town, if only for a couple of weeks. The dinner carried on without any horror stories and after a leisurely dessert and some light classical guitar, courtesy of Korsak, the living room’s population thinned until, finally, only Jane and Maura remained.

Jane was first to fall onto the sofa, but Maura nudged her aside and sat down next to her. Even Angela was out, having gone with Ron to stop in for a visit with Joann.

The television was on, but muted. The twenty-four hour marathon of _A Christmas Story_ was still in play and the film just about to start over. A few years back, she’d been appalled to find out Maura hadn’t seen it and it had since become tradition to make sure they caught at least one full airing of the movie during the holiday.

“Bet you thought you’d gotten out of it, this year,” Jane said, turning the sound up.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Maura draped the throw blanket across the both of them.

“I can’t wait until the part where you explain the most effective ways to remove a tongue from a frozen flagpole.”

“There was no reason for that boy to suffer injury!”

“Frankie dared me, once.” Jane glanced at Maura with a half-smile as she spoke.

“Did you do it?” Maura angled toward Jane a little, eager for a story.

“No, but only because Ma caught us.”

Maura bumped Jane with her shoulder as she settled back into the couch beside her. “Jane, you can’t just go sticking your tongue to things.”

“I didn’t!”

“But you would’ve.’

“Only if I was dared.”

“I dare you to stop talking so we can watch this movie.” Maura twitched her eyebrow in challenge.

“Stop hogging the blanket.” Jane tugged at it.

Maura jerked it back into place. “I’m doing no such thing! We have equal shares.” She smoothed it out over her legs, which were tucked up next to her, trying to make sure her toes were covered.

Jane sighed and settled, scooting down and resting her feet on the coffee table. The movie played through half a scene before she spoke, again. “Merry Christmas, Maura.”

“Merry Christmas, Jane.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jane slept in the next day, and though she had given herself permission to sleep until the afternoon, she woke up in the late morning. She also woke up hungry, so she got out from under the covers pretty quickly.

Though she had the beginnings of a caffeine-withdrawal headache, she already felt a little less tired than the day before. But that was probably because she’d gotten about twelve hours of sleep, all total. She’d actually fallen asleep initially during _A Christmas Story_ , and apparently, so had Maura. It wasn’t until after midnight that Jane woke up, realizing that Maura’s head was on her shoulder, and she was breathing so deeply it was almost snoring.

She’d gently woken her up by saying her name, and together they’d sleepily managed turning off the television and navigating the stairs to their bedrooms. Jane had barely even realized her arm had been tightly wrapped around Maura’s waist to steady her until they parted between their rooms.

She wondered if Maura even remembered. They’d both been so groggy. On top of that, Jane wondered why _she_ even bothered to remember something so mundane.

As she pulled on a sweatshirt, she realized she didn’t know what to expect now that it was no longer a holiday. Most of her family probably had to go back to work. Would anyone else even still be home? This had been one reason she’d thought it might be better to stay at a hotel. She didn’t want anyone to have to worry about entertaining her when they had their normal lives to get back to.

However, as she descended the stairs and came into the kitchen, she brightened, because she was not alone in the house. Maura was sitting at her desk adjacent to the living room, typing on her laptop. At Jane’s entrance, she blinked, refocused, and smiled, “Good morning.”

“Hey,” Jane greeted, heading for the coffee pot, “Working on your mysteries?”

“No,” Maura replied a bit evasively.

Jane’s interest was piqued, and she scrutinized Maura as she typed just a bit more, clearly finished out a thought. “Then what’re you writing?”

Maura didn’t answer at first, still typing, and, holding her cup of coffee, Jane approached her. However, Maura clearly sensed her presence, and before Jane could do much more than scan a line, Maura tilted her laptop’s screen down, then looked up at Jane with a bit of a tight smile. “Yes?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Jane blinked, her brain slowly processing what she thought she’d read, “Just wanted to see what you were writing.”

“It’s a side project. A writing exercise,” Maura explained, and something about her demeanor confirmed for Jane that she had, indeed, read what she thought she had.

“So, your side project is dirty stories?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

Maura pressed her lips together awkwardly, “Well, yes. Which is why I’m sparing you from reading it.”

“What? Oh, come on.”

Maura eyed her sharply, “Really, Jane? Do you _really_ want to read my woman-on-woman erotica?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jane insisted. Maura glanced at her, obviously surprised, and Jane elaborated, “Come on, Maura. It’s me. Of course I want to read it. My job as your best friend is to read everything you write, judgment-free. Unless it’s poorly written. Which it won’t be.”

Maura gave her a fond smile, “Alright then. Let me finish out this section, and I’ll let you look at it while I make breakfast.”

Jane agreeably settled at the kitchen island, giving Maura a chance to finish writing. She sipped her coffee, and reflected briefly on Maura’s sexuality. It hadn’t been a complete surprise to discover that Maura had a sexual interest in women--in retrospect, there had been a few clues. Nevertheless, Jane could still remember feeling like her blood had stopped pumping, when Maura had met back up with her in France and told her what, exactly, had gone on in Amsterdam.

While in Paris, Maura had connected with an old classmate from her boarding school days. She hadn’t exactly been looking to meet up with anyone, as she hadn’t had a lot of close friends from high school, but upon discovering that this individual was in Paris, Maura hadn’t been able to resist.

It had been fine, at first. Maura’s classmate was a lovely woman named Simone who was stylish, classy, and friendly, though over dinner she and Maura both so easily slipped into speaking French that Jane felt a little left out. Which was frustrating, because Simone spoke fine, if a little halting, English. At the end of the meal, Simone revealed that she had business in Amsterdam that weekend and casually invited Jane and Maura to join her.

Maura had glanced at Jane, looking disappointed, and explained that they had plans to go to Italy that weekend to connect with some of Jane’s family. But Jane immediately sensed Maura’s regret and told Maura she should go. They’d excused themselves to the ladies’ room to confer in private, and Jane had continued to insist that Maura should go and catch up with this old classmate whose company she was clearly enjoying.

Besides, Jane’s plan in Italy was to meet up with her distant cousin Xavier, from her mother’s side of the family. They were friends on Facebook and had only met once before, when Jane was a teenager and Xavier had come to visit the states. During his stay in Boston, they had attended a Red Sox game together and had a great time, and Xavier had promised that if Jane ever made it to Italy that they would see a soccer game. She had intended to take him up on this promise that weekend, while Maura had been looking into what else she could do to entertain herself around Udine. Jane figured it would be easier if they just did separate things that weekend, things that they would both enjoy.

Besides, they’d spent every day together for almost two and a half weeks at that point. It wasn’t that they were tired of each other, or annoyed with each other, but Jane felt like she would have a better time in Italy alone with her cousin if she didn’t have to worry about Maura having a good time, too.

Ultimately, Maura had agreed to spending the weekend apart. She’d ensured Jane got to the airport, and then boarded a train to Amsterdam with Simone.

Jane had a great weekend with Xavier. She met some of his friends, a few of her other family members. She drank a lot of good Italian beer, ate the best pizza of her life, drank espresso she was certain Maura would be jealous of, and attended a very intense and noisy football match during which she was sure there had almost been three riots. Xavier was a good host, and guided her to the best restaurants and bars in the city. Though the purpose of her trip had been, ostensibly, to learn about her family, Jane only ended up asking her relatives a few questions about family history. But it was fine with her. She’d certainly absorbed some of the culture, instead.

Of course, what she couldn’t know was that, at the same time as she was absorbing Italian culture, Maura was sharing a joint with Simone in a Dutch coffee shop, and then going to bed with her.

It had been a little shocking to hear about at first, but once she and Maura were back in France together enjoying their vacation, it was easy to push thoughts of Simone aside. She was happy for Maura that the experience had allowed her to be more open about her sexuality, even if it was awkward sometimes. But Jane wanted Maura to know that she supported her, and so she refused to shy away from reading her best friend’s lesbian erotica, weird as it might be.

There was a series of clicks as Maura confidently punched in the save command on her keyboard, then pushed her chair away from the desk. She rose and handed the computer off to Jane, who set it on the counter and scrolled to the top of the document.

As Jane began to read, Maura moved about the kitchen, prepping the ingredients she needed to prepare what Jane assumed would be an omelette or a scramble with more vegetables than were likely necessary.

The story unfolded quickly. Jane supposed there was no need for much backstory when it came to Maura’s “writing exercises.” But she did notice that the tone was a little lighter, there was a freedom to the flow of the piece. Not that Jane was any kind of literary critic, but the mystery novels were so earnest and methodical, while this felt more relaxed. Maybe writing about sex was how Maura managed to override her intensely analytical mind. The primary plot centered around the concept of the Mile-High Club. Something about the character of the flight attendant felt vaguely familiar.

“Good morning!”

Angela’s entrance through the side door led to Jane’s immediate reaction of slamming the laptop closed.

“What? Nothing. I mean. Good morning.” Jane’s elbow rested, firmly, on top of the computer and her left hand shoved into her hair. “Are you… here for breakfast? Maura’s making it.”

From across the counter, Maura’s smirk was evident, but it quickly vanished as she greeted Angela. “Were you planning to stay for breakfast?”

Angela shook her head. “I’m about to pick up TJ so Tommy can take a job over in the old neighborhood. Remember Mrs. Lucci?”

Jane squinted. “The one with all the cats?”

“No, that was Evelyn Krause. Mrs. Lucci was the one with the yard.” At Jane’s blank look, Angela continued. “On the corner? With the hedges?”

“Yeah, no, I still have no idea.”

“You used to hide in them and scare Frankie and Tommy when they were coming back from school?”

“ _Oh_! The Wicked Witch!”

“She was a very nice woman, if a little eccentric.”

“She used to yell at me.”

“Because you were hiding her hedges!” Angela’s aghast look quickly shifted. “Anyway, her nephew’s family now lives in the house and I ran into his mother at the rink this weekend and she was asking if I knew any good plumbers, since Frank’s no longer around.”

“That’s great, Ma.” Jane was actually pleased that her youngest brother was finding work and seemed to have a knack for the family trade. Especially since she and Frankie hadn’t followed in their father’s footsteps.

“And, Maura, after this job, Tommy says he’ll be by to take measurements.”

Maura turned toward Angela, inclining her head graciously. “That’s perfect. Thank you, and thank him for me, please.”

“What measurements?” Jane asked, eyeing Maura’s waist and hips suspiciously.

Instead, it was Angela who answered, “Tommy’s Christmas present to Maura is to do a little bit of work in the guest house, updating some fixtures and things. It’s basically a present for me, too,” she finished gleefully. She retrieved her coat from Maura’s front closet and pulled it on. “See you later!”

Jane stayed still until she was certain Angela wasn’t coming back in, then she relaxed and opened back up the laptop. “I was almost done, too,” she muttered.

Maura chuckled again, and focused back on cooking. By the time she had turned off the stove, Jane had finished reading what Maura had written so far. She sat back, nodding in satisfaction. “It’s good,” she told Maura.

“Really?” Maura asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s different than your other writing. It feels like you’re having fun with it, which is cool. And even if it’s not really something I’d want to do, it’s, uh, effective. You know, as erotica goes.”

Clearly sensing Jane’s awkwardness, Maura reassured her, “You know, women tend to respond to erotic material even if it doesn’t feature activity that aligns with their sexual identity. Men, not so much.”

“Well, okay, but I mostly meant the Mile High Club thing. I just don’t think airplanes are that sexy. Plus, I’m already too tall for those bathrooms.” Jane closed the laptop and set it aside as Maura placed a plate of food in front of her--which was, indeed, an omelette with veggies, but also clearly had pieces of leftover Christmas ham. She grinned, “Looks great.” She was about to dig in when she noticed Maura was still standing on the other side of the island, holding a cup of coffee. “Where’s yours?”

“Oh, I already ate. I was up awhile ago.”

Jane gave her plate an incredulous glance, but she was far too hungry to discuss how Maura’s hospitality felt strange to her, now that she was a holiday guest. It was different when she lived five minutes away, and when she and Maura were a daily part of each other’s lives. It was different when breakfast at Maura’s was part of their routine. Now that their routines centered around texting and visits every few weeks, Jane felt again like her extended stay could end up putting Maura out, now that Maura had new routines that didn’t involve Jane’s daily presence.

The same feeling resurfaced again early that afternoon, when Maura revealed she intended to head to BPD for a bit. Angela was still watching TJ, and Jane was going to be alone in Maura’s house. It was strange to feel like a guest in a place that Jane basically considered home, and Jane felt more bittersweet about it than she expected to. She wondered if she’d feel the same way if she were staying at a hotel. “What am I gonna do while you’re gone? Are you working a case? Can I go with you?”

“No, there’s no active homicide case, so you’d be bored there. But there’s a lot you can do here,” Maura replied, “I have plenty of books,” she shrugged at Jane’s sour face and offered, a bit begrudgingly, “You could watch TV. And you don’t have to stay here, I can give you the code to my security system.” It was true, she wasn’t trapped at Maura’s, even without a car. She even still had Maura’s house key on her key ring.

“I’ll find something,” Jane said, trying to sound upbeat. “Go do your paperwork or whatever, I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Have fun. You’re on vacation, after all,” Maura reminded her as she headed out.

After Maura left, Jane watched some TV for a little bit, but it felt weird to not be doing anything different than what she’d do in her own apartment. She got up, intending to poke around and find something else to occupy herself, when she noticed lights on in the guest house, and realized Tommy must be there.

Jane slipped her feet into sneakers and crossed to the courtyard, heading inside her mother’s small studio. Tommy, hearing, called, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jane called back, following his voice to the bathroom, “What’re you doing?”

“Oh, hey, Janie. I’m just doing some work for Maura, you know, for Christmas.” He was standing in the shower as he removed the showerhead.

“Ah, yeah. Just charging her for parts, right?”

“Yeah. Though, she doesn’t know that I do that anyway, when I’ve done things for her.”

Jane smiled fondly at him at the admission, “Well, in that case, let me pay for the parts for this one. That way you can keep your secret. Especially since it’s for Ma, too.”

She watched as Tommy considered the offer, then he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“You need any help?”

“It’s all just fixture upgrades. Nothing too serious.” Tommy’s phone rang and he handed Jane the showerhead he’d been holding. “Rizzoli’s Plumbing,” he answered. “Sure, yeah. I can get you an estimate. I’m in the middle of a job right now, but I can call you back.” He gestured to Jane. “You got a pen?” he whispered at her.

Jane quickly stepped out of the bathroom and searched the small kitchen counter until she found a pen and a small post-it pad. When she turned to re-enter the bathroom, Tommy was right behind her. She shoved the pad at him and he took it, along with the pen.

“Okay, got it. I’ll get back to you later today.” He hung up the call, then frowned. “What?”

“Nah, I just feel like they don’t want to wait. I hope they don’t call those assholes at Patriot Plumbing. They always cut corners and I end up patching their shitty work.”

“So, call back and go do the estimate.”

“I told Ma and Maura I’d have this finished tomorrow.”

Jane ducked her head around the corner and looked back into the bathroom. “New showerhead, tub faucet, and sink fixtures, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I can prep it for you and we can finish it tonight. Did Maura already pick what she wants?”

“Uh, yeah.” He dug a folded printout from his pocket and passed it to Jane.

“Okay, so go do the paying job so you can feed your kid.”

“You sure you can handle it?”

Jane waved the showerhead at him. “You want me to jam this where the sun doesn’t shine?”

Tommy shoved her hand away from his face. “What? You’re a cop, not a plumber!”

“Pop was teaching me how to clean a sink trap while you were still learning to walk,” Jane scowled. “And besides,” she continued after a painful second, “I’m not a cop anymore.”

It only took a few minutes for Jane to get the information she needed before heading out to the upscale supply store that carried the style of hardware that matched Maura’s tastes. Before she left the house, she entered the security code (which was, conveniently, her own birthdate). Without a car, she’d need to either call a cab or take the train. Usually, she’d be inclined to avoid the T, but given her time away from Boston, riding the subway felt like it might provide a necessary jolt of nostalgia. She still had a Charlie Card in her wallet with enough to cover a fare, so she didn’t even need to stop to reload it. Though, she did briefly take a moment to admire the view of the Charles River before she headed into the station. Even in the dead of winter, the walking paths along the river still looked picturesque. Beacon Hill and the surrounding downtown area hadn’t felt like Jane’s Boston when she was growing up--it had felt snooty, fancy. But now it just felt like another part of the city that Jane loved. Jane’s Boston was much more expansive now, from Beacon Hill, to Fenway, to Roxbury Crossing where BPD was housed, to her old Charlestown neighborhood.

Even the T station itself felt nicer. She rode the DC Metro fairly often now, but the experience always felt like it was lacking. The stations felt plain, without character, not like the glass-enclosed station overlooking the Charles that she was currently in. Jane felt eager to ride the T, at least, she did until the overcrowded train pulled into the station. She sighed as she pushed her way into the train car, jostling for a handhold. Getting on at a station between downtown Boston and Cambridge meant almost constant crowding, and she glared at a young hipster sitting in a seat, while an elderly woman clung to a pole beside him.

“Hey!” Jane waved her hand at him to get his attention. He looked up, surprised and intrigued, and pulled out his earbuds, “You. Your legs work?” The kid barely nodded and Jane continued, “Get up, this lady needs a seat. Show some respect,” she scolded, her Boston accent coming out stronger than it had in quite awhile. The kid looked sour, but begrudgingly rose to let the old lady sit down. She nodded her thanks to Jane and the kid slouched further down the car, glowering, though he received his share of returned glares from bystanders.

Not that Jane didn’t do this on the DC Metro from time to time, but, perhaps because of her accent, it seemed to go over better on the T. Even though the ride itself was essentially being packed like sardines next to strangers sweating in their winter coats, Jane at least felt like she was in her element. Though once she stepped off the train and took a deep breath of the marginally fresher air in the underground station, she decided she’d had her fill of public transportation, and would be taking a cab home.

Shopping for the fixtures themselves didn’t take long, and given Maura’s taste, Jane had expected they would be somewhat pricey. But she was happy to pay for them, because, after all, Maura had helped Jane financially in a lot of ways since they’d known each other, from letting her raid her refrigerator on a daily basis, to finding her a cheap sublet in Beacon Hill--a benefit Tommy and TJ were still enjoying. A part of Jane always felt the need to pay Maura back for her generosity, even though she knew she would never even the score financially. But given that Maura was still managing to help Jane even now, whether it was finding ways to pay for most of Jane’s groceries during their trips to the farmer’s market in DC every other weekend, or frequently paying when they went out to eat, Jane still felt indebted to her. Even when they lived hundreds of miles apart, Maura was still managing to feed her.

Besides, Jane had always been good at being frugal, and she had some savings, especially now that her new job meant a bump in salary. This was the least she could do for her best friend.

Jane took a cab back to Maura’s, which wasn’t actually much more comfortable than the T, but it was certainly quicker. She entered through the gate to Maura’s courtyard, heading toward the guest house. The door to the main house opened as she crossed, and Maura stepped out. “There you are.” She caught sight of the bags in Jane’s hands, and her eyes lit up. “Are those the fixtures for the guest house?”

“No,” Jane said immediately, “Nope, not at all.” She tried to hide the bag behind her legs as she backed toward the guest house door and fumbled with the key in the lock.

“Oh, okay,” Maura replied, sounding amused, “Well, whenever you’re done doing whatever you’re doing in there, I ordered Italian.”

That got Jane’s attention and she looked up from the keys. “Cool, I was already thinking about dinner on the way home,” she admitted. Finally, she wrangled the correct key in place and pushed the door open, backing through the doorway, eyeing Maura, as if she might rush at her to look at the fixtures.

Maura didn’t, though, and just laughed from her doorway. “I made sure you have your own full order of gnocchi.”

Immediately, Jane shoved the bags into the bathroom and dashed for the front door and across the courtyard into the main house. “You’re the best.” She shed her jacket and hung it on the back of a barstool. When she turned to look at the table, it was set for dinner, but there was no food on it. Jane pivoted back to check the kitchen island, but there were no takeout containers or paper bags. “Uh, where it is?”

“I said I _ordered_ it, I didn’t say it was here, yet.”

“You can’t just tease a Rizzoli with gnocchi like that.”

“It appears I just did.”

Jane groaned, but it was good-natured. “What am I supposed to do _now_?”

Maura looked incredulous, “You have plenty of options,” she reiterated her sentiment from earlier in the day. Jane grunted noncommittally, and Maura continued speaking. “For someone who’s supposed to be relaxing, you sure are restless.” Jane eyed her warily as Maura completed her thought, “Maybe it would do you good to get some exercise. I’m going running tomorrow morning at eight if you’d like to join me.”

Jane sagged and moaned, “Maura, I’m on vacation.”

Maura laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Well, imagine how great a vacation it would be with an endorphin high.”

Before Jane had moved, they’d developed a very regular workout schedule of running and yoga. As much as she hated to admit it, exercise always did leave her feeling better. Back in DC, she frequented the fitness center in her building and made a point to sit in on the academy defense training when she could. But it wasn’t the same as the friendly competition she had with Maura, making small bets with each other about who could reach a certain street corner first and making the loser buy coffee.

Still, Jane didn’t think she wanted to get up early to run, of all things. “I’ll think about it,” she sighed, then grabbed the remote for the television as she dropped and stretched out on the sofa. Maura nudged her legs aside, joining her on the couch as Jane flipped the channels before settling on a home renovation show. “They’ll never make their budget. A house that old has galvanized pipes and there’s no way it’s been updated.” For as much as Maura dominated when it came to random trivia, Jane liked to flex her knowledge, on occasion.

“Everyone always places so much importance on cosmetic upgrades, but there’s so much more that goes into a good home,” Maura agreed. Jane would have teased her about the fixture upgrades in the guest house in response, but she knew that Maura took care of what was behind her walls just as well as what could be seen. Her best friend was no fool, and had the IQ points to prove it.

After their early dinner was delivered, Tommy came in through the side door to report on his progress in the guest house, but once he had finished the job, Jane and Maura had the remainder of the evening to themselves. Jane decided that she was foolish to even consider staying at a hotel, because it would cut into evenings like this. And time with Maura was worth more to Jane than any big purchase.

When Maura headed to bed a bit early, Jane decided to go to bed herself. She had a difficult time winding down for sleep, but once she fell asleep, she, thankfully, mostly stayed there.

* * *

 

“Jane. Jane?” Maura peered into Jane’s dim bedroom. She could barely see her form in the bed, where her dark hair splayed onto her pillow, in the glow from the hallway and from the nightlight that gave the guest bathroom enough light by which to navigate through the room.

“Uh?” It was less of a reply and more of a grunt.

“Did you want to go running with me?” Maura asked softly.

“Uh.” Another grunt, though the tone suggested to Maura that it was a negative response.

“Is that a no?” she asked. Maura liked to be certain about facts.

“Sleepin’,” Jane finally spoke coherently.

“Okay,” Maura murmured, gently closing Jane’s door. She pulled up her hair as she descended the stairs and prepared for a run. Leaving the house during a cold winter morning was almost always excruciating, but during a run, Maura found it invigorating after awhile. She found her pace and pushed along, silently musing that, had Jane joined her, she’d be commenting on various sights along the way. The woman with the dog stroller. _Do you think she walks her baby on a leash?_ The male jogger with the iridescent short shorts. _I think I just saw something I wasn’t supposed to see._ There was always some detail that would elicit a statement from Jane, even though Jane insisted Maura was the one who talked too much. Her mind must’ve wandered for a while, because she was caught slightly off guard when her runner’s high kicked in, the endorphin rush washing over her, clearing her mind. She _missed_ Jane, and that in itself was practically a part of her routine. They still had a little less than a week to spend together, which felt both like a lot of time and not nearly enough.

Maura had struggled with Jane’s move, and felt conflicted about whether it made her selfish. Jane herself had been uncertain about the move, and Maura had tried so hard to support her decision. But for Maura, having Jane back in Boston meant having Jane home, and she wanted to do everything she could to make it feel that way for Jane.

By the time Maura finished her run, showered, and dressed, Jane was awake, though barely. Maura came downstairs to find her, in her pajama pants and old sweatshirt, grumbling at Maura’s coffee machine.

“Good morning,” Maura greeted, moving next to Jane to take over the task of making coffee.

Jane relinquished the coffee gratefully and stepped away to lean against the counter, watching Maura. “Morning,” she grunted. She blinked, “You seem...awake.”

“I had an invigorating run this morning. You missed out.”

Jane snorted, but she was smiling a little. “Yeah, well, I’m on vacation.” She opened Maura’s fridge. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I’ll make you something,” Maura insisted.

Jane grinned, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Well, you _are_ on vacation.”

Already seeming a bit more awake, Jane settled at the kitchen island and watched Maura work. “Anything going on today?” she asked, eyes drifting to watch the coffee drip as it brewed.

“I have some hours at the clinic this morning, but I’ll be back by early afternoon.”

“Sounds good,” Jane replied. Her brow furrowed at her phone, but then her face relaxed. “Looks like I might be watching TJ today. Is it alright if we hang out here?”

“Absolutely. TJ is well aware of my house rules.” Jane chuckled, although Maura wasn’t sure what was funny. She returned her attention to cooking as Jane sat texting, presumably working out the details of when she’d watch her nephew.

As soon as a full cup of coffee had brewed, Maura poured it and passed it to Jane, who sipped immediately, sighing in pleasure. By the time breakfast was prepared, Jane seemed fully awake, and Maura became aware of a restless energy already surrounding Jane, projected most strongly by her tapping fingers and jittery feet.

They sat next to each other at the breakfast bar, with Jane insisting Maura watch a video she’d been sent on Facebook of a dog riding a skateboard, which then led into other animal videos. Maura found herself mildly amused by them, but Jane was thoroughly entertained.

“Perhaps you should have taught Jo Friday more tricks while you had her.”

Jane shrugged. “I tried. It was hard enough to get her to poop outside in the winter before I froze to death. But I bet you could have trained Bass to do more than just mope around the house.”

Maura gasped. “Bass was perfectly content in his home environment!”

“Then why’d he walk around all the time with that sad turtle face?” Jane pulled her face into a long frown, doing her best impression of Maura’s former pet.

“ _Tortoise_ face. And his species isn’t particularly known for frolicing.” But now Maura was contemplative. “Do you really think he was unhappy?”

Jane protectively rubbed a hand over Maura’s shoulder. “Aw, no. You took great care of him. I didn’t mean to bum you out. I was kidding.”

They’d been friends long enough for Maura to identify when Jane was teasing her, but there were still moments when Maura’s deductive functions defaulted to objectively processing input, which could lead to simple misunderstandings like this one. She leaned toward Jane, allowing herself to be pulled into a casual side-hug. Once her brain shifted out of its deductive mode, Maura was able to play along. “I suppose I could have taught him to differentiate between a pair Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks.”

Jane laughed, “If I don’t know the difference yet, I’m not sure how a turtle could.”

Maura was pretty sure Jane was exaggerating about her shoe ignorance, but she retorted reflexively, “Tortoise.”

“See?” Jane waved her fork. “I can’t get turtle and tortoise straight. How am I supposed to know your Tommy Chongs or your...Mikhail Baryshnikovs?”

Maura chuckled, “I think you know full well that those aren’t shoes.”

Jane shrugged, smirking, and turned her attention back to her food.

The morning carried on, similar to the one before. This time, at least, Jane had a plan for her day and wasn’t groaning about impending boredom. When Maura left the house to head to the clinic, she mentioned that there was a hard copy of the house rules in the top drawer of her desk.

Again, Jane responded with a laugh, but when Maura shot her a look of steely resolve, she hunched her shoulders. “Okay, okay. We’ll be good.”

Later that afternoon, Maura returned home to find both Jane and TJ sitting, silent, on the couch. There was an animated program playing on the television, but both of them were concentrating too hard to actually be watching the show.

“How was your--” Maura began to inquire about their time together, but she was interrupted by TJ.

“I _tried_ to tell her, Aunt Maura! But she wouldn’t listen!”

The outburst was unexpected and Maura immediately set her bag down on the kitchen counter. “What happened? Is everything all right?”

Jane turned, eyebrows raised and mouth stretched out in a placating smile. “We were planning to tell you something.”

“Oh?” Maura stepped forward and leaned one hand on the writing desk that butted up against the back of the sofa. “What is it?”

“It’s that… we…” Jane glanced at TJ, but he flung himself back on the couch cushion and covered his face with his hands. “Were, uh, playing a game. And… something… fell?”

It was obvious this wasn’t the whole truth. “TJ?” Maura asked, knowing he’d likely come clean more easily than his aunt. “Is that true?”

TJ’s hands fell away and he shook his head. “We were playing catch and then... “ His voice got quiet, almost to a whisper, “we broke something.” He piped back up to add, “She doesn’t believe me about the rules.”

Jane jabbed at him with a playful poke. “I told you, Maura’s my best friend. I don’t have rules, here.”

“You are, indeed, my best friend.” But before Jane had a chance to gloat, Maura pressed on. “However, I expect everyone to respect the rules of the house.” She pulled open the drawer to find the rule sheet right where she left it, clearly untouched. “ _Jane_. Did you even read this?”

“There’s not actually a list-- _There’s actually a list_?” Jane stretched over the back of the couch, but Maura stepped just far enough out of reach.

“Rule one,” read Maura, “no ball playing indoors.”

“It was a Nerf ball. It can’t break anything.”

“So, then, how did something get broken? And, what was it?” She began to scan the room for any missing items.

“I can’t help that I have arms!” Jane took a deep breath. “And it was the, uh, pottery thing that was on that little table.” She waved one of the aforementioned lanky arms toward a small table that sat next to one of the chairs.

“I have to say, I’m very disappointed.”

Jane sat up on her knees. “I’m really, really sorry.” When she reached out, this time, it was to grasp Maura’s hand in apology. “Where was it from? Some Chilean mountain farm? The African plains? Whatever it cost, I’ll find a way to replace it.”

“That style of pottery wasn’t used by any known cultures from either of those regions.” Maura was content with the amount of groveling Jane had done, likely because the item that had been damaged wasn’t any kind of artifact. “It’s from Pier One. I bought it during the Labor Day sale I attended with your mother.”

At the reveal, Jane sagged with relief. She quickly covered for it, though, by side-eyeing Maura and quickly snatching the page of rules away from her. “No feet on the walls?” she began to read, “Where else am I going to practice my parkour?”

“What’s parker?” TJ asked, suddenly far less sullen than he had been, moments ago.

“ _Parkour_ derives from _parcours du combattant_ , which is a classic military obstacle course. It centers around obstacle passing and was developed by--”

But Jane, perhaps, had a better way to explain the athletic artform to a five year-old. “Remember in the _Prince of Persia_ movie when he ran and jumped off all that stuff?” TJ nodded and his eyes lit up.

Maura sensed trouble. “That rule still stands, even with your Aunt Jane in the house.”

Jane sighed, scanning the rest of the rules. Maura heard her mutter, “No _horseplay_ ,” incredulously, but her expression was guilty as she handed the list back to Maura.

“So, next time you want to play ball, what will you do?” Maura asked, directing the question at Jane.

It was TJ who answered, in a recitation of, “You can only play ball in the courtyard.”

“Yeah. That,” Jane replied, “Sorry, Maura.”

“You’re forgiven.” And she was. Maura gave a placating smile, which Jane returned. “And you are, too, TJ. Thank you for trying to set a good example for your Aunt Jane.”

At least spending the afternoon with TJ seemed to have given Jane an outlet for her excess energy, even if that energy had resulted in something of Maura’s being broken. But Maura wasn’t angry. It had led to a valuable lesson for TJ, and Maura was happy that Jane had spent some quality time with her nephew.

It seemed, however, that Maura overestimated how much energy Jane had expended, because she woke up early the next morning to a sound in her dark bedroom.

Maura turned over, listening hard, to the sounds of someone muttering and shuffling about. Maura reached for her lamp, about to call out, when she heard a low voice, “Maura? You awake?”

“Jane?” Maura whispered back, “What are you doing?”

“I thought this was when you went running. Aren’t you getting up?”

Maura hadn’t planned on it. She’d intended to give herself a break this morning, “I suppose,” was all she said.

“Do you have a sports bra I can borrow?” Jane asked, and Maura could make out Jane’s figure as she rifled through Maura’s dresser.

She wanted to laugh. “Yes. I’ll find you one. Let me get ready, and we’ll go for a run.”

“Awesome. Thanks,” Jane replied. Maura finally turned on her lamp to see a wild-haired Jane, still in her pajamas, puppy eyes bright and eager at the prospect of a morning run.

And Maura climbed out of bed, beginning to feel eager herself, at the prospect of more quality time with her best friend.

There just never could be enough of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't love doing a ton of author's notes, but I did want to A) apologize that this was a couple days late and 2) let you all know we are absolutely still here and working on this epic story. We hope this provides a brief escape from the crappy things going on out there in the world. And, in Jane and Maura's universe, we'll just assume the world isn't upside-down.
> 
> Stay safe and please take good care of yourselves. 
> 
> -kbs (and plpm)

* * *

 

Taking a morning run together definitely seemed to take some of Jane’s restless energy away. Though, by mid-afternoon, it appeared to have returned, as Jane puttered around the kitchen, stopping to crouch and peer in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.

“When’s the last time someone cleaned this trap?” she asked, gesturing at the U-shaped curve in the piping.

“I don’t recall.”

“Well, you have a slow drain, so it probably could stand a cleaning.”

“Right now?” Maura appreciated the concept of keeping her home in working order, but they had plans scheduled for the evening.

“What? Nah, not now. Maybe this weekend.” Jane glanced at her watch. “You about ready? Parking gets hairy the closer to puck drop. I wouldn’t want you to miss anything about your first hockey game.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

Jane assessed Maura’s attire with a deliberate gaze up and down her body. “In that?”

“What?” Maura looked down at her casual wool slacks and cashmere sweater.

“For as many times as you put me in a dress, I think it’s my turn to make sure you don’t embarrass me.”

Maura pursed her lips, but she couldn’t argue with Jane. “Fine. What do you suggest I wear?”

“Jeans, for starters. And you’re definitely not wearing heels to the arena.” Jane was already climbing the stairs and Maura hurried to follow.

“Well, I can’t wear my boots.” There was more than a hint of pout to her reply. “They’re still too uncomfortable after all the skating.”

By now, Jane was in Maura’s room, pushing into the closet. But she stopped once she was faced with the abundance of fashionable clothing. “Where’s the stuff that doesn’t require dry cleaning?”

“Casuals are to the left.”

Jane dug around through a couple of drawers, but Maura’s watchful eye proved to be too invasive. “Go wait out there,” she nodded toward the bedroom.

Maura complied, though she mentally began to process how much time it would take her to straighten everything if Jane was going to ransack her wardrobe. But it only took Jane about thirty seconds to emerge, jeans and t-shirt in hand.

“Here.” She passed the clothes to Maura, then vanished back into the walk-in closet.

“This is a shirt I wear to the gym.”

“So?” came the reply. “I wear all my shirts to the gym.”

Again, Maura was faced with the reality that they were going somewhere familiar to Jane and foreign to Maura. But there were still certain factors that couldn’t be ignored. “Won’t I be cold?”

Instead of answering, Jane returned with Maura’s running shoes. “These should work.”

“But they don’t go with…” Well, if Maura was being honest, what Jane had given her wasn’t really an outfit, so coordinating anything was a lost cause.

“The shoes are gray. The shirt is gray. The jeans go with anything.”

“You didn’t answer my question about being cold.”

“Right…” Jane walked out of the room.

“Jane!”

“Hold _on_!” There was some shuffling from the guest bedroom down the hall and then Jane was back. “Try this.” It was her own black and yellow Bruins hooded sweatshirt.

“Weren’t you planning to wear this?”

Jane shrugged. “Gives me an excuse to buy another one.”

Maura pulled on the sweatshirt, which felt warm, almost as if it had just come off of Jane’s body. It wasn’t unusual for them to share clothes, but Maura was oddly touched by being essentially gifted Jane’s sweatshirt. She reached for her new Red Sox cap and frowned. “This isn’t going to match _anything_.”

“It’s Boston. It matches,” Jane insisted, but Maura felt uncomfortable as she pulled on the cap, “You ready? We should go.”

They had left early enough that traffic to the rink was manageable, and they were parked and heading inside with plenty of time to spare. Maura, who had the tickets, navigated her way to their seats. She had tried to do her research, asking Frankie and Tommy where the most enviable seats were, and had chosen ones closest to the glass behind one of the goals.

Jane looked delighted as they approached their seats, and she stood close to the glass, surveying the ice, as Maura took a seat. “Whoa,” she murmured in awe, glancing back at Maura with wide eyes. “I’ve never been this close before! If someone loses a tooth, I’ll be able to _see_ it!”

Maura frowned, “You’re not _hoping_ that will happen, are you?”

Jane’s shoulder jerked in a half-shrug, “It’s hockey. Everybody hopes for a few good fights.” Her gaze moved toward the back of the rink, “I’m gonna go get a new sweatshirt and a beer. You want one?”

“Do they have wine?”

“Maybe. I’ll look for you.” And Jane was hurrying off to make her purchases before the game actually started.

While Jane was gone, the rink began to fill up. Maura entertained herself by observing the spectators around her, gauging by attire and behavior their level of sports fanaticism. A man around Maura’s age settled into the seat next to her.

“Helluva game last week, huh?” he asked.

Maura had no idea to which game he was referring, but she quickly realized that all of her sports centric attire had likely led him to believe she was a sports fan. “Yes. It certainly was.”

“You usually sit this close to the glass? I haven’t seen you down here.”

“Oh, uh. No. I usually am not sitting here.” Not a lie. It was very true that she’d never sat in any part of the arena, ever. She began to wonder when Jane would return. Handling a casual conversation wasn’t a problem, but if it was going to center around hockey, Maura didn’t have much to go on beyond the list of related lingo she’d googled that morning. And that wasn’t for a stranger’s benefit, it was for Jane’s.

He began to ask another question, but there was an interruption from a woman sitting behind them. “Hey, buddy. She’s not interested.”

Maura glanced back at the woman, having half-forgotten she was there. She’d noted that the woman appeared to be heavily invested in the Bruins based on her attire, but they hadn’t interacted. The man beside Maura clearly hadn’t paid attention to her either, because he glanced at her with mild irritation. “What do you mean?”

The woman chuckled. “You must’ve missed the woman she came in with.” At the man’s blank look, she elaborated, “This lady has a tall, tough-looking girlfriend, so I’d keep my distance if I were you.”

The man shot Maura a questioning look, but then turned his attention to the ice, clearly not about to press further. Maura turned over her opposite shoulder to more discreetly speak to the woman behind her. “Thank you,” she said. Though the man hadn’t really been bothering Maura yet, she also hadn’t quite realized he was interested in her.

“No problem.” The woman winked, and it made Maura grin a little bit. She was about to confess that Jane wasn’t actually her girlfriend, when her not-girlfriend’s voice made her turn around.

“Here, I got you this,” Jane pushed a beer toward Maura, “Because, yeah, they have wine, but it was all in tiny bottles and none that you’d like, and I know you like Blue Moon okay.” Jane settled next to her with her own beer, a bright new Bruins sweatshirt on her body. “And I got this since, you know, you were concerned about not matching.” She handed Maura a Bruins beanie.

“That’s...thank you,” Maura replied. She glanced at the woman behind her, who was smirking and looking pleased, and Maura decided it would be too confusing to explain that Jane wasn’t her girlfriend.

Jane, however, noticed the look Maura exchanged with the woman, and leaned in to murmur, “Um, was I interrupting something? Do you want me to like...go away for a minute so you can get her number?”

Maura chuckled a little, “No, it’s okay. I really only want to go to sports matches with you.” She pulled the Red Sox cap off and replaced it with the beanie. Her uncertainty about what to do with the baseball cap was quickly resolved when Jane took it from her and pulled it over her own head.

The remainder of the first period was uneventful, at least outside the glass. Jane kept making comments about how great the seats were, which filled Maura with a pleasant proud warmth.

Between periods, while the zamboni moved across the ice, Jane disappeared to buy them another round of drinks. Maura considered that, perhaps, she should be the one providing the libations, as this was her gift to Jane, but she was content with not having to navigate the rowdy crowd. Before too long, Jane returned with two more beers and a plate of nachos slathered in what Maura assumed to be plastic masquerading as cheese.

“You bought that?” Maura asked, eying the nachos uncertainly.

“Got us a snack,” Jane replied casually.

“I’m not sure anything on that plate actually qualifies as food.”

“Probably nothing here does,” Jane admitted, and she pushed the plate toward Maura. Maura was hungry enough to be tempted, and picked up a chip. She chewed thoughtfully.

“I can taste the artificial flavoring,” she complained.

“Then why are you picking up another one?” Jane asked, amused.

“Because I’m not going to let you eat all this yourself!” Maura grinned. Though she was certain they had zero nutritional value, they were actually tasty. Jane looked smug as they cleared the plate of nachos together.

During the second period, the game was starting to get rowdier, perhaps because the score tended to stay tied. Maura found herself getting swept up in the energy of a few fights on the rink, but given that no one got seriously hurt in the fights--and no one lost a tooth--she decided she couldn’t feel too bad. She certainly hadn’t been cheering them on or yelling advice at the fighters like Jane had been.

Toward the end of the period, when the Bruins had managed to eke ahead, Maura offered to go buy the next round, wanting to slip out before the period was actually over to avoid the crowd. By the time she got back to their seats with drinks, the zamboni was back on the ice, and spectators were pushing out to get concessions. Those that remained, including Jane, were idly watching the Jumbotron.

Jane thanked Maura for her beer and they clicked plastic glasses in an impromptu toast. “What do you think of the game so far?” she asked.

“It’s quite engaging. I have to admit, I’m more invested in the outcome than I expected to be.”

“I knew you had some Boston in you,” Jane grinned.

Maura decided not to argue that Boston was more than just its sports teams. She had a feeling this wasn’t the appropriate venue for such an opinion. She was trying to figure out a retort when the woman behind them said, “Oooh, look!”

Jane’s head whipped toward the ice, and Maura noticed quickly that they were framed on the Jumbotron. The man next to her was edging away, trying to get out of the shot, and the woman behind them was waving. Jane reacted almost in the same moment as Maura and they reached for each other. They just had time enough to put their arms around each other and grin, posing for the Jumbotron, before it switched to another camera.

Jane’s eyes were alight when they looked back at each other, “That was cool! I’ve never been on the Jumbotron before. These seats are great!” she gushed again.

“I think this has been quite a successful first game for me,” Maura replied happily.

“Don’t say that until we _win_ ,” Jane admonished playfully.

The third period was fairly exciting, as the Bruins fought to defend their slim lead. Jane was very animated in her support of the team’s efforts, and even Maura found herself cheering and applauding at good plays out on the ice. When the period ended in a hard-fought Bruins victory, Maura joined the crowd in celebration, impulsively hugging Jane.

“Now _that_ ,” Jane said as she released Maura from the hug, “was a good first game.” She met Maura’s eye. “Thank you for this present, sharing this with you was awesome.”

“You’re welcome,” Maura responded, “I had a great time, too.”

“Hey! Jane! Maura!” a familiar male voice called. Maura turned to see Giovanni pushing his way through the crowd, coming toward them. Jane turned back to Maura and groaned, but by the time she turned back around the face Giovanni, she was wearing a forced grin.

“Giovanni, hi. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Well, I didn’t know you guys were here until I saw you on the Jumbotron. You looked hot!” he commented, “But you guys missed your chance! You shoulda kissed, you know how it is.” He winked, looking eagerly between the two of them.

Jane turned to Maura, a sarcastic lilt to her voice, “Now why didn’t we think of that?” she asked.

“I suppose it just happened too quickly!” Maura replied.

“Too bad,” Giovanni replied, “Woulda been hot!”

“Yes. Yes it would’ve,” Jane replied in her placating tone. She glanced around, “Where’s, um…”

“Oh? Trina? Ahh, she had to go back to Cali for Christmas. Long distance sure is hard, huh?” he sighed, seeming dejected.

“It sure is,” Maura agreed, and Giovanni gave her a sad little smile.

“Well, _dear_ ,” Jane’s arm swung around her in an exaggerated gesture, “We’d better hurry if we don’t want to get jammed in here with all the exit traffic.” She smiled widely at Giovanni. “Have a happy new year,” she said.

“Oh, yeah. You, too.”

Maura always found Giovanni to be so agreeable when they interacted. He wasn’t the brightest guy, but Maura also felt he didn’t deserve quite the amount of condescension Jane directed at him. But then she’d also catch him staring at her breasts, as he was, right then, to remember Jane still knew him far better than Maura did.

The ogling wasn’t unnoticed by Jane and, in line with keeping up appearances, she elbowed him hard enough in the side to elicit an, “Ah!”

“Really?” she asked, looking pointedly from him to Maura’s chest.

“Whoa, sorry.” He rubbed the ribs that had made contact with Jane’s elbow. “That wasn’t cool, I get it.”

On their walk back to the car, Jane’s arm dropped away from Maura’s shoulders, leaving her feeling slightly colder in the cool air of the parking garage. “That was very noble of you to defend me.”

“He was being a creep,” Jane replied.

“His response to my breasts is completely natural--”

“ _Still_ creepy. And he knows better.” Jane swung Maura’s door open for her.

As Maura slid into the seat of her Prius, she noted that chivalry certainly wasn’t dead, at least when it came to her best friend.

* * *

 

“Come _on_ , you can tell me.” Jane had been attempting to extract information from her nephew for the better part of ten minutes, but the stubbornness he exhibited in cooperating only confirmed he was one-hundred percent Rizzoli.

“I can’t,” TJ insisted, trying to look around Jane at the video game on the living room flatscreen.

They’d been Wii bowling for the better part of the afternoon, an activity sanctioned by Dr. Maura Isles, Queen of Unnecessary Rules. The title extension was something Jane laughed about over breakfast, but Maura hadn’t been amused.

“What if I said I was thinking about walking to Dunkies and letting you pick out any doughnut you want?” Bribing a child with Dunkin Donuts was a low tactic, but Jane was desperate to find out what show Maura was taking her to see so she could mentally prepare for the ballet or Boston Pops Does Mozart or whatever culturally important presentation she’d be cat-napping her way through. She didn’t mean to be an asshole about these events, the art openings or the museum seminars, but Jane’s attention waned easily if she didn’t know what was going on and, in most cases where Maura was on a board somewhere, the options were usually Boring, Boring-er, or Boring-est. But it was only fair for her to give whatever it was her best attempt at staying awake since Maura had endured the Bruins game rather well.

TJ paused the game and considered the offer. “Aunt Maura says they’re loaded with sugar and artificial ingredients.”

Jane stifled a laugh. “Well, number one… that’s what makes them delicious. And two, your Aunt Maura secretly loves doughnuts. So maybe if we bring her one, she’ll let it slide.”

There was some contemplation from TJ, his eyes squinted before he dramatically sighed. “Okay. It’s something foreign.”

“Foreign? Like what?” Jane still didn’t know if that meant Russian ballet or Italian opera.

TJ shrugged. “Dunno. Can we get doughnuts, now?”

Jane sighed, trying not to sag in disappointment that TJ was tapped out as a source. “Yeah, alright,” she agreed.

When they got back with the doughnuts, Angela was in the kitchen. She frowned at the box of pastries, “You’re going to ruin that child’s appetite,” she warned.

“Ma, it’s just a doughnut.” She set TJ up with a plate and a napkin at the table, remembering Maura’s rule about not eating on the living room furniture, and then handed him his frosted cream-filled doughnut. She pulled one out for herself and began to eat it at the kitchen island. “You know anything about the show Maura is taking me to?”

“Can’t say I do,” Angela said distractedly as she peered into the refrigerator. Jane narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if her mother was lying.

“TJ said it was something foreign,” she tried to prompt her mother.

Angela shrugged, “Well, you could use a bit of culture. What are you going to wear?”

Jane groaned, “Can’t I just wear this?” she gestured to her jeans and t-shirt.

Angela shot her a hard look, “Janie, Maura is taking you to something important to her. You should look nice. Wear your Christmas dress.”

Jane sagged, “My Christmas dress? Really?”

“From what I hear, she wore her running shoes to that hockey game and, if I know Maura, that was probably a huge personal compromise.”

“But--”

Angela shushed Jane with a wave of the hand.

“ _Fine_.”

But when Jane came down the stairs in her Christmas dress to meet Maura that evening, she found Maura at the kitchen island, in jeans and a t-shirt. She took a bite of the glazed doughnut Jane had brought her earlier, groaning a little in pleasure, until she caught sight of Jane, then she blinked, swallowed the bite she’d been chewing, and asked, “You’re wearing that?”

“Ma said I should dress up.” Jane eyed the shirt Maura wore. It was definitely designer, with a stylized neckline unlike anything Jane had stuffed in a dresser drawer, but it was far more casual than the dress she’d been convinced to wear. “ _This,”_ she indicated to Maura’s outfit, “is what you’re wearing to… the opera?” There were two questions, one about the clothes, the other being a guess about their activity.

“What makes you think we’re going to an opera?” Maura asked.

Jane tried, again, “Ballet?” When Maura shook her head, the next guess was, “Something with subtitles?” Still no positive confirmation. “Well, TJ told me it was foreign and I can’t think of anything else.” Jane’s shoulders drooped as she conceded the fact that she wasn’t going to figure out the surprise.

“TJ told you?”

“I mean, I… offered to take him for doughnuts and, as a sign of his appreciation, he mentioned something he’d heard about tonight.”

“You coerced a _child_ with bribery?”

“It worked, didn’t it? And you don’t seem to mind that you’re benefitting from it.”

Maura nodded in acceptance and took another bite of doughnut.

“ _Maura_ ,” Jane whined, still anxious to find out more about the evening. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll probably want to change, because we’re going to see Foreigner.”

Jane expected there to be more to the sentence and then she realized Maura meant, “The band?” Maura’s grin was confirmation. “We’re going to see _Foreigner_?! Oh my god! Maura!” And she was reaching to embrace her, bowled over with excitement.

Maura held her doughnut delicately over the kitchen island, but returned Jane’s hug with her other arm. She pulled back a moment later to take in Jane’s dress again, “Unless you’d rather go to the ballet?” she asked, an amused lilt in her voice.

“No! Shit, I need to change. I wish I’d known,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried toward the stairs, “‘Cause I have a Foreigner t-shirt at home!”

“We’ll just have to buy you one at the concert, then!” Maura called after her.

Jane slowed, as the instinct surfaced to insist that Maura didn’t need to buy her anything, but she thought back to when she’d been younger, and attended concerts more frequently. How she’d eye the concert tees with envy, wishing they were something she could justify spending the money on. She’d almost never had the cash to spare. Maura would, however, and so Jane decided to let this one slide in the interest of fulfilling a longtime wish.

Once Jane had shimmied out of her Christmas dress and thrown on jeans, t-shirt, hoodie and sneakers, she came downstairs to find that Maura had completed her look with her motorcycle jacket. It made Jane grin. Maura always had a practical yet classy outfit for every occasion including, apparently, rock concerts.

“You girls have fun! And be careful!” Angela called after them. She and TJ were making popcorn in the new air-popper that had been acquired with a holiday gift card. Jane was slightly jealous that they were leaving before she could snag some of it, but then she was off to see one a much beloved band from her youth, so the snacks could wait.

Once at the venue, Maura produced the tickets and, instead of heading up toward the mezzanine level, they proceeded to seats on the floor level.

“Wait, what row are we in?” Jane asked.

Maura hummed as she glanced at the seat numbers. “D. Fourteen and fifteen.”

Jane almost groaned in happiness. “Have I mentioned you’re the best friend, ever?”

“Not today, you haven’t,” Maura teased.

Much like the hockey game, they settled with drinks in hand as they waited for the show to begin. Once the band began to play, no one remained seated and, at first, Maura appeared concerned.

“Is this standard?” she asked, having to get her mouth close to Jane’s ear to even be audible, given their close proximity.

Jane leaned in and asked, “Haven’t you ever been to a concert before?”

“Not one without an orchestra! Oh! Wait, I did see Ladysmith Black Mambazo at--”

“Just do what I do and you’ll be fine.”

 

“That was _awesome_. Seriously, how are they still so good so many years later?” Jane still felt the energy of the music like an extra pulse in her body, even as they pushed out of the theater with the crowd as it branched off toward cars, buses and taxis.

“There is a performative aspect of music that is often missing in the digital age,” Maura replied, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. “For a long time, music could only be experienced as a performance, which has allowed it to serve as a uniting cultural force for much of human history. The fact that music is so personal now is what makes concerts seem so enchanting.”

Jane groaned, but it turned into a laugh. “It was also just a _really good_ concert, Maura.”

“That is true!” Maura agreed, “I always forget just how many good songs they have.”

“ _I_ don’t,” Jane said proudly, because, indeed, she sang along to every song during that concert.

The buzz lasted the whole way home as they sang and laughed, drawing out the evening. But by the time they got home, Jane was starting to realize that Maura would need to go to bed soon. Still, Maura got out the wine, and they wound down together with a glass each, which was all it took for Maura to get sleepy. Jane was still feeling the concert, but it was blending with the heady sensation of the wine to take Jane to a warm, relaxed headspace, if not a drowsy one. Still, she got into bed, reliving the concert in her mind as she sought sleep.

This was the concert she’d always wished she could have attended when she was in her teens and early twenties, one where she was close to the stage and could afford a few drinks and some band merchandise. But back then, she’d always imagined she’d go to concerts like that with a steady boyfriend someday, maybe a husband. That they’d sway and maybe kiss while “I Want to Know What Love Is” played.

But she’d seen this show with Maura, and for Jane, that was even better. She hadn’t even wished she had a boyfriend when that song had come on. They had just belted it out together, laughing at the app Maura had downloaded to her phone that simulated a lighter. And while Maura was certainly not the boyfriend Jane had imagined in such a scenario, the moment was still sheer delight.

Jane’s eyes flew open as she remembered that she still hadn’t managed to call back Cameron this week. She closed them again, promising herself she’d remember to do it tomorrow.

“Morning, Ma,” Jane greeted as she came into the kitchen the next morning.

“Morning, hun,” Angela looked up from whatever she was working on and her expression changed. “How long have you been awake?”

“I dunno,” Jane answered, mostly out of contrariness.

“You’re dressed before noon and you’re on vacation. What’re you up to?”

“Nothing,” Jane replied evasively.

Angela eyed her for a moment before asking, “Have breakfast yet?”

“Yeah.” A day-old doughnut and a cup of coffee qualified, at least if Maura didn’t see it. Though Jane suspected that Maura’s breakfast may have been the same, judging by the number of doughnuts left in the box that morning.

There was a knock at the front door. Jane moved to open it as Angela watched her curiously.

“Hey,” Nina said with a grin. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Jane answered, “Bye, Ma!” she called over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Angela asked.

“Lunch!” Jane called back before closing the door and following Nina to her car. “So nosy,” she griped, not really meaning it.

Nina laughed as she started the ignition, “I’m just glad my mother isn’t local, because I don’t think Frankie would survive the both of them, at once.”

“He barely survives Ma, on her own.”Jane adjusted the passenger seat, sliding it back to accommodate her long legs. “Although, and please _do not_ tell her I said this, but I miss her.”

“I hear that,” Nina replied with a fond smile. “My mom is intense, but she’s still my mom.”

“Yeah, well, you taught mine to Facetime. _Jane_ ,” after forty years of listening to Angela, Jane had the imitation down, pat. “Are you eating enough? Are you getting enough sleep? How’s that boyfriend of yours?” She made a face, then dropped the act.

Nina laughed, lightly. “At least you have someone down there. How is Agent Davies?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s… nice.” She searched for another word, knowing there had to be one, but nice about covered it.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are… they’re good.” Jane watched out the window, feeling slightly on-the-spot, only because she hadn’t really thought about Cameron much during her trip and now she felt weirdly guilty because of that. “I think we’re just in that place where you’re waiting for the next thing to happen, so you’re just in a holding pattern. You know?”

“Uh, I…” Nina glanced over at her as they stopped at an intersection. “Not really. When Frankie and I were in the early stages, everything was exciting.”

“Because you were keeping a secret. That’s different.”

“We only did that for a little while! And I’d been shot, thank you, very much.”

Jane had been shot, as well, but not during any budding relationships. Still, she could understand how Nina and Frankie’s situation differed from her own. Yet, there were things about her previous attempts at something long-term that echoed in her current relationship. “Okay, but after the excitement of it being new fades, then you’re just waiting for the next thing to happen.”

“So...you want him to put a ring on it?”

“No! I mean. I don’t know! I’m just...waiting for the next thing to happen,” she finished lamely, frustrated with herself that she couldn’t find another way to express what her relationship’s holding pattern felt like.

“Okay,” Nina said, her tone placating, “I see.” Jane suspected that she still didn’t understand, but wasn’t keen to push it. It was way too early to get engaged, not when they hadn’t even officially called each other boyfriend and girlfriend yet. It would be nice to take that step, Jane supposed, but that was semantics more than anything.

Jane wasn’t entirely sure _what_ she wanted the next step to be. That was supposed to be Cameron’s job to figure out.

Luckily, Nina was able to smooth over and move past the awkward moment, and rest of the car ride was happy conversation and nostalgia, especially as they got closer to BPD. And after they parked, as Jane followed Nina in through the front doors of the station, she was hit with a sentimental wave. The building even _smelled_ the same.

Nina approached the security guard, and Jane was still taking everything in, comparing the BPD of her memories with its current state, studying the details. Nina was signing her in and getting her a guest pass when the officer in charge said, “Woah. Rizzoli?”

Jane blinked, then smiled awkwardly, “Yes. Hello,” she replied, a bit thrown.

“I’ve heard about you.” He was gazing at her, and it wasn’t until she really looked at his face that she realized how young he was. “Is it true you once shot a man through your own body?”

“Um. Yes,” Jane responded, still a little bit out of her element, distracted as she was by the feeling of being back in BPD, where things were the same but not the same.

“Is it true--”

“Okay, thank you,” Nina interrupted him pointedly, but she was grinning.

“Oh! Right. Here’s your visitor’s pass, Detect--, uh, Ms. Rizzoli. Have a great day, and thanks for all you did. Through the metal detector, please.”

Jane cringed. She always bristled at being called Ms., or sometimes someone assumed Mrs. But she didn’t say anything until she and Nina passed through security and she followed Nina to the elevators. “What was that? Geez, nobody was ever that excited to see me when I was actually working here.”

Nina grinned, “Well, you are kind of a _name_ around here now. Cavanaugh likes to drop your name, so you’ve almost reached legend status since you left, especially among the newbies. Poor Frankie still gets compared to you all over the department.”

Jane stifled a laugh, “Really?” She pressed the elevator button as they got close, out of habit. “At least he’s used to it,” she said, half-seriously.

“He doesn’t seem to mind much,” Nina agreed with a fond smile.

Jane followed Nina out of the elevator to the upper floor and they headed toward the homicide unit, which was pretty empty. Frankie wasn’t at his desk, but Jane smiled to see that Frost’s action figure still stood like a silent sentinel, protective and watchful. Her desk and Frost’s were still pretty bare aside from the computers. Nina swung her jacket over her desk chair, and Jane brightened to see that Nina had a group picture from Jane and Korsak’s goodbye party on her desk. She felt a pang of something like loss when she looked at it.

“We’re still mostly using floating detectives to fill in until we hire someone permanent,” Nina said, gesturing at the empty desks that used to belong to Frost and Jane. “But things have been pretty good here.” Jane nodded, looking around. Nina shrugged, “Want me to take you to BRIC? I can show you some of the recent software upgrades.”

But Jane’s phone buzzed with a text. She tapped out an answer, then turned her attention to Nina, “In a bit? My lunch is here.”

“Of course,” Nina smiled, “Just come find me when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Jane said, “You know, for letting me come as your visitor.”

“Oh, I’m happy to. Feels good having you back in homicide, even just to visit.”

“Yeah, it does,” Jane agreed a little wistfully, then she waved and headed back to the elevators.

As she came back out on the ground floor, she saw Korsak standing with a bag of food. He held it up to her with a grin, “Special delivery from the Dirty Robber.”

Jane chuckled, moving in to give him a one-armed hug. “Don’t you have people you can pay to do this stuff for you?”

“Of course, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, it’s nice to have an excuse to come back here.” Korsak looked around, and Jane saw her own nostalgia reflected on his face.

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed, and they were silent for a moment as they both took in the atmosphere.

Korsak spoke, his tone subdued, “I’m enjoying retirement, I really am. Kiki’s great, and The Dirty Robber is satisfying. But...I miss it. I miss feeling like I’m out there working to bring justice to the world.”

“Me, too,” Jane agreed quickly. Korsak regarded her expectantly, and Jane continued, “I mean...I like my new job,” she said, though even she could tell that her tone was a little weak, “I have some really great, really smart students, and it is fulfilling knowing I’m teaching them the things it took me years of experience to learn. And, like, the pay and benefits are better. And I do kind of feel safer now that I’m not on the force.”

“That’s good,” Korsak said encouragingly.

“Yeah. It is. I mean, I dunno. The people there...they haven’t seen the things I’ve seen. They’re academics. They’re hard to talk to sometimes, and it’s weird. I know DC is a good fit for me, it’s just...sometimes I do really wish I was back at BPD, solving crimes.”

Korsak nodded, “You and me, we always did thrive on those high energy cases. That’s probably why it’s hard for us to get used to the quiet life.”

“Yeah,” Jane breathed. “But at least you get to stay in Boston. God, I miss it here.”

“I heard the FBI might be making a new position in the next couple of years, some kind of liaison position within the Boston field office that coordinates with local precincts.”

Jane chuckled in disbelief, “Figures something like that would crop up after I’ve made myself comfortable in DC.”

“Yeah, it is. You’d probably be a shoe-in,” Korsak shrugged, then he handed the bag of food to Jane. “Thank you for your order,” he gave a cheeky grin.

“Thank you,” Jane smiled, taking the food and heading back through security to the elevators, this time pressing the down arrow.

As she stepped out of the elevator downstairs, she could see Maura in her office, reading something while sitting on her sofa, her back to the window. Jane tried to walk quietly until she was standing at the open doorway to Maura’s office, and she knocked.

“Come in,” Maura said, her tone the measured, even one she used to authoritatively run the lab.

“Got lunch plans?” Jane asked.

Maura spun around on the sofa, expression brightening when she saw Jane. “Jane? How did _you_ get down here?”

“Nina,” Jane replied, then held up the bag of food. “I brought you lunch.”

“Oh, thank you!” Maura shook her head, laughing a little. “Well, this is a surprise!”

“Yep. Now c’mon, have lunch with me before it gets cold.”

There was the sound of approaching footsteps, and then a voice, “Jane!”

Jane turned in time to see Kent approaching quickly, “Hi, uh, Kent.” She reacted to his hug instinctively, holding up her hands.

To his credit, Kent backed off immediately, “Jane! Wow, it’s great to see you. How have you been?”

“Good!” Jane replied, forcing enthusiasm into her voice, “Really...good. Uh. How are you?” She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Kent. He tended to annoy her, but she also knew he was important to Maura as a colleague but also as a friend.

“Oh, we’re great here,” he said, “Dr. Isles does fantastic work, I always learn a lot from her.”

“Kent has been a very valuable asset to the department,” Maura told Jane with a smile. “You wanted to see me?” she addressed Kent.

“Yes! Here are the results from those tests you wanted.”

Jane tuned out for a little while, as they conferred about the science they were working on. It didn’t appear to be a murder case, so it wasn’t exactly in her wheelhouse. She just continued to unpack the food she’d brought until Maura excused Kent and said they could talk more after her lunch.

“It was great to see you, Jane,” Kent told her with a genuine excitement and fondness.

“Right back at you,” Jane tried to put the same friendliness in her tone, but even she could hear the sarcasm. It didn’t seem to bother Kent, though, and he grinned before leaving Maura’s office, shutting the door behind him.

As Jane settled into the seat across the desk from Maura, she felt a pang that could have easily been hunger, but was more centered in nostalgia. She’d always made light fun of Maura’s artifacts, the masks and sculptures she always surrounded herself with, but it was really just because she knew Maura loved explaining them. Jane wasn’t always the best casual history or anthropology student and usually ended up crossing her eyes in response, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t listening or didn’t care.

“I picked up a movie for us to watch this weekend,” Maura slid a plastic case across the desk.

“Oh?” The cover had a woman wielding some kind of weapon over her head. Jane flipped the box over and scanned the details. “This says it’s in Japanese.”

“With English subtitles,” Maura offered. “It’s _The Hidden Fortress_!”

“I don’t really know that many Japanese movies beyond the ones with Godzilla in them.”

“You would have seen more if you’d gone with me to the Kurosawa film festival, last year.” Maura fumed, slightly, but continued. “This was the inspiration for your favorite space opera.”

“Okay, I know I’ve never seen an opera about space.” Jane took a huge bite of her burger, then realized what Maura was talking about. “Srrr Wrrs?”

“Yes, George Lucas was strongly influenced by this film when he created _Star Wars_.”

Jane took the time to actually read the rest of the description. A general, a princess, some smuggling… yeah, it sounded cool. Even if she had to read everything.

At the beginning of her trip, nearly two weeks in Boston felt like plenty of time, especially once she calculated for her mother’s nosiness. But as the weekend arrived, it was hard for her to enjoy the lazy Saturday afternoon she had planned with Maura and TJ. In less than forty-eight hours, she’d be back on a plane to DC. She didn’t want to think about that, right now.

In fact, right now, they were watching the movie Maura had selected and, even with all the subtitles, it was exciting enough to keep even TJ engaged in watching it. At the beginning, he’d tried to show off his reading skills and he’d kept up for a few minutes, but then he was more interested in emulating the fighting action on the screen. Eventually, he wore himself out and fell asleep on the couch, or really, stretched out across his two aunts, about two-thirds of the way through the film.

Jane could sympathize, because in spite of enjoying the film, they were also in such a warm and cozy atmosphere that relaxation was slowly progressing into sleepiness. She and Maura were sitting close together, out of necessity from sharing a blanket and trying to share the sofa with an antsy five-year-old. Jane’s arm eventually ended up propped up on the back of the sofa, and Maura had gradually moved close enough that her head rested lightly against Jane’s shoulder. Though TJ’s sleeping form was preventing Jane and Maura from currently reaching their wine glasses, the bottle of cabernet they’d opened was adding to the already soft atmosphere.

It was warm, and comfortable, and Jane felt at home. As her attention wandered from the film, she thought with a pang about how soon she would be back in DC, in her empty apartment, with a sink full of almost two-week-old dirty dishes and an empty refrigerator. There’d be none of her mother’s home cooking, no nights watching a game and splitting a twelve pack with her brothers, no evenings with TJ reading to her, and she’d have to wait at least two weeks before she and Maura would have another evening like this.

But it was okay, she told herself, because she had a good job, and her own space. She didn’t have to deal with her mother prying in her life nearly so often, or her brothers causing chaos and drama. Much as she loved TJ, it was probably better for Maura’s house that she wasn’t around to babysit him so often. And at least Maura visited her regularly in DC. It was working out well, really. She was finally somewhere that she was free to be herself, to do what she wanted.

She just wasn’t quite ready to go back to her free, safe life in DC, not when nights like this still existed in Boston.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Jane sat in her airplane seat, she was already tired and grumpy. It felt like it had already been a long day, even though not much had happened.

She’d slept in a bit, but not so long that she’d missed seeing Maura in the morning. Though Monday was usually a bit of a light workday for Maura, she was heading in to get some work done at BPD, and wouldn’t be back before Jane was supposed to go to the airport. A part of Jane was disappointed that Maura hadn’t taken the afternoon off to drive her to Logan International, but she also knew that for Maura, saying goodbye at the airport was always harder. It was probably part of why she often didn’t give Maura a ride to her flight when she visited DC.

Though it also felt kind of stupid to give Maura a hug goodbye before she headed off to work, and before Jane was even out of her pajamas. But that was how it had happened, and after Jane had finished her breakfast, Maura had sighed and said she’d better head to BPD.

Jane had pulled her close, “Thanks for...well, thanks for everything.”

Maura laughed, “You’re welcome.” She pulled away, a smile on her face, “I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“You’d better,” Jane grinned.

Maura laughed again, but it sounded brittle. She turned, gathered her purse. She glanced up, only making brief eye contact. “I’d better go. Safe travels, and text me when you get there.”

“Course,” Jane had responded, and watched as Maura walked out the front door, her stride businesslike. Jane sighed. This goodbye had absolutely felt harder, and standing alone in Maura’s empty house somehow amplified Jane’s dark mood.

Jane had time to get dressed, packed and ready, and then Angela was there to drive her to the airport. It was still over two hours until her flight, but Angela still believed that was an appropriate window of time to arrive, and besides, she had a work shift at the Dirty Robber starting closer to Jane’s departure time. Jane wasn’t about to argue over whether she really needed to sit around at the airport for two hours.

She almost wished one of her brothers had been available to give her a ride, because trying to pull herself out of her mother’s grasp while parked on the curb outside of Logan was somehow harder than ever, too.

“Ma, chill,” Jane said weakly, “You’re coming to visit soon, I’ll see you then.”

“I know, Janie,” Angela said, clearly unsuccessfully fighting tears. She held on tighter for a few moments, until Jane finally squirmed free and grabbed her leopard bag out of the trunk of her mother’s car. What had once been weighed down with gifts for her family was now weighed down with gifts from them. Jane was glad, for that reason, that she hadn’t had to take public transportation to the airport, at least.

Security moved quickly, and Jane still had an hour and a half to wait by the time she had checked her bag and found her gate. She found coffee and a snack--she was thankful to be in one of the terminals that had a Dunkies on the inside--and tried to get Maura to play Words With Friends with her, though Maura was busy enough that her return moves took awhile. Still, Jane’s phone in general, at least, was enough to distract her from her sheer boredom and her grumpy thoughts.

The flight left on-time, and Jane watched Boston disappear into the horizon as they gained altitude over the sea. Once the seatbelt sign was off, that same curvy flight attendant as last time came around, charming as last time. Jane wasn’t sure if she was always like that, or if she remembered Jane. Still, the airplane concessions helped pass the time. Jane could at least snack on pretzels and sip her little styrofoam cup of airline coffee as she stared out the window, watching as they flew along the coastline in the hazy afternoon light, the towns and cities along the rocky shore looking gray with old snow, until they started tracking inland over clumps of trees interspersed with clusters of buildings and occasional stretches of uniform blocks of land, farms and rural properties carved from the forests, as the horizon gradually darkened and afternoon gave way to evening.

The flight back to DC somehow felt longer, perhaps because by the time they landed, the sky was dark. Jane turned back on her phone. There were three separate texts, all asking to let them know when she’d landed, from Maura, her mother, and Cameron.

She felt a pang of guilt as she saw his name. They hadn’t spoken, aside from a few disjointed text conversations, in almost two weeks. She replied to Maura and her mother first then, hesitating, texted Cameron that she’d just landed.

Jane found a bathroom and pulled her winter coat back on before heading down to baggage claim. As she was walking, she checked her phone again, to see that Cameron was apparently waiting to pick her up outside.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for Jane’s leopard bag to emerge, and she was hurrying out into the cold, frowning uncertainly and scanning for Cameron’s car.

As she stepped up to an empty part of the curb, Cameron pulled up, apparently having had to circle around. He stepped out and circled to open the trunk for her, lifting her leopard bag inside. He flashed a grin, “Hi,” he said.

“Hey,” Jane said, trying not to show how uncertain she felt about the situation.

“Come on, get in the car, it’s warm,” he said, his tone friendly, and they circled around to their seats.

“Thanks for...picking me up,” Jane said awkwardly.

“It was no problem,” he said, “How was your trip?”

“It was...good. Really good,” Jane lapsed into silence for a moment at the pang of melancholy. She shook it off. “How was your Christmas?”

“Good,” he replied, “My family’s fine, it was good to see everyone.”

Jane nodded in agreement, and they were quiet again. Jane felt uncomfortable. It was never this hard to talk to him, not since their first date, and that was part of why she liked being with him. Finally, she just decided to address what she considered to be the source of the tension. “Sorry we didn’t...you know, really find time to talk while I was gone.”

“Jane,” he said, and his tone was a little subdued, “You...do want to keep seeing each other, right?”

“Yes!” Jane said quickly, guilty and afraid. “Look, I am really sorry. It was just...there was so much going on, being back in Boston, with everyone I missed. My family, and Maura. And my nephew is already in kindergarten. I didn’t mean to shut you out, it was just overwhelming. My family is a handful.”

Cameron’s expression had softened around his eyes. “I get it. The way you talk about your family, I think you’re closer to them than I am to mine. I can understand how different a visit like that would be for you.” He glanced at her, “Besides, it’s okay. When I left my family’s, I almost immediately got called to a field office in Florida and I was there for about a week. I was busy, too.”

“Okay,” Jane nodded. “So we’re cool?”

He chuckled, “We’re fine if you are.”

“Cool,” Jane nodded, and momentarily, conversation was flowing easily again. They talked about what their families did for holidays, Cameron talked a little bit about the case he’d worked. But the closer they got to Jane’s apartment, the more she dreaded going inside, knowing it was going to seem cold and uninviting just from being unlived in for almost two weeks. Finally, she asked Cameron, “Want to stay over tonight?”

He cast her an intrigued glance. Jane had never asked him to stay over before; she would stay over at his place if they spent the night together. “Sure,” he replied with a grin.

It had seemed simple enough. She knew she was already feeling lonely after her time with her family, and Cameron was good company. Besides, she felt like she owed him some of her time and affection after basically ignoring him for two weeks, and she had hoped that their reconnection would be exciting enough that she would sleep well to prepare her for the week ahead.

Instead, it seemed that Jane was just too tired to really tap into it, but she still enjoyed the encounter, and Cameron seemed happy. But while he dozed off pretty quickly, Jane lay, trying to get used to the sensation of someone else in bed with her. But ultimately she couldn’t fall asleep, so she got up quietly, pulled on pants, and curled up under her Red Sox blanket on the couch, the TV turned on low to a late-night _Law & Order_ marathon. There was something comforting in a crime procedural.

She’d texted Maura as soon as she came out to her living room, not at all expecting an answer this late at night. She lingered over her next Words With Friends move, trying to coax her exhausted brain into making sense of the letters in front of her. But as she half-watched TV and shifted letters around on her phone, a text from Maura came through. Jane suddenly felt alert.

**Are you having trouble sleeping? It’s a little late for Words With Friends.**

Jane sighed. She hadn’t said much of anything when she’d texted Maura--just had made a comment about the most recent word Maura had played in their game--and while she hoped Maura might be awake and would respond, she didn’t want to talk about this.

**What about you? You’re the one texting in the middle of the night.**

No matter that Jane had texted first. Maura would most likely answer a direct question.

**I fell asleep initially, but woke up a bit ago and am having trouble winding down again.**

Jane frowned.

 **That sucks. Same here**.

It was close enough to the truth. Jane steadied her breathing, staring at her phone. It tethered her to Maura, united them in their mutual insomnia. She wondered why Maura wasn’t sleeping well, remembered guiltily how obvious it was that Maura was sleeping poorly when they were still trying to catch Alice Sands, after Jane had failed Maura in the worst way. She angrily brushed thoughts of Alice Sands away. She was dead, and there was no reason for her memory to keep Jane awake, not now, not in DC. There was no reason to think of her at all, in fact.

“Hey,” a scratchy voice from across the room made Jane jump. “Sorry,” the voice said immediately, quieter.

“It’s okay,” Jane said back, twisting on the couch to face Cameron, who stood in his boxers in the doorway of Jane’s bedroom.

“Something wrong?” he asked, rubbing at his eye.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” Jane said with a shrug.

“Oh,” Cameron said, blinking, clearly trying to process with his sleepy brain. Then he said, “I know what’ll help.”

Jane felt her phone buzz in her hand, and glanced down at Maura’s text.

**I find that chamomile tea and writing in my journal helps me relax. Perhaps we should both try something like that tonight.**

“A little of this should do the trick,” Cameron was saying across the room, and Jane looked behind her to watch as he poured three fingers of whiskey into each of two small glasses, then brought one over to Jane. “Cheers.”

Jane glanced again at Maura’s text, then clinked glasses with Cameron and downed the shot.

 **Thanks. But I’ll be okay. I’m gonna try to sleep again**.

The great thing about Cameron was that he understood how Jane operated. He guided her back to bed, and this time, she was able to fall asleep, in spite of his unfamiliar warmth and weight in the bed next to her.

Jane’s sleep was heavy, more due to the travel than the alcohol, and the whiskey was a deceptive nightcap because it never really lasted. She woke sometime just after sunrise, blinking at the bit of light that crept its way into the room. Her body wanted more sleep and her mind agreed, but she pulled herself up off the mattress and shuffled into the bathroom. It wasn’t until then that she realized the sound of the morning news broadcast wasn’t coming from a downstairs neighbor, but from her own living room.

Why was it so easy for her to forget about Cameron? And it wasn’t even like he’d just slipped her mind, it was that she was so comfortable with her own standard of things, he just never really fit into what she was doing. She probably needed to fix that if they were going to keep dating.

She stepped out into the living room, still pretty disheveled, and Cameron was, indeed, sitting on her couch, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, his shoes on the floor in front of him. He was sipping what had to be a cup of instant coffee while watching the news, but when she walked in, he turned and gave her a tired but satisfied grin, “Good morning,” he said, “Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah,” she said quietly, and though it was too early for her to really want any kind of physical affection, she crossed the room to give him a brief, chaste kiss. There was a chuckle in his throat at the contact, and then Jane moved to the kitchen to put on some hot water for coffee for herself.

Cameron put the cup of coffee down on the table in front of him and reached for his shoes. “I’d better head home soon so I have time to get ready for work.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Jane mumbled. She wanted to offer him breakfast, but she wasn’t even sure what she was going to have. Her fridge was empty aside from a couple of beers, some cheese that was molding, and milk she’d opened before she’d gone to Boston that she was afraid to even give a smell check. She’d have to run to the corner store and buy more, or just grab an egg sandwich at the McDonald’s on the next block or something. That seemed more efficient.

Though Jane could hear Maura telling her that it took hardly more effort to make French press coffee as opposed to instant, at that moment, the extra effort seemed insurmountable. Maybe it was the whiskey haze Jane could swear was still clouding her head, or just her poor night’s sleep in general, but Jane simply poured a packet of instant crystals into her coffee cup, watching the tea kettle impatiently. Cameron, his shoes on, stood and downed the rest of his cup of coffee, crossing toward the kitchen. Jane took the mug from him, too embarrassed to want him to approach her sink full of weeks old dirty dishes, though she knew he must have already seen it. He just seemed grateful, and when she turned back to him, he offered her another kiss. This one lingered longer than Jane would’ve preferred for it being so early, but she let him kiss her, until he pulled away, meeting her eyes with his soft gaze. “I’ll see you soon?” he said, though it sounded like a question.

“Of course. Have a good day at work.”

“You, too.” He left as Jane’s hot water finally started to boil.

Jane wasn’t sure what to do with her day. It was the last day before she had to go back to work, and she had purposely come home early enough to give herself a day to prepare. She drank her cup of coffee and took a shower, then headed out to grab a McMuffin and another cup of coffee. As she headed toward the corner store to get some groceries, she tried to decide, what did she want to do with her day off?

* * *

 

That evening, Maura visited the Dirty Robber. She took a seat in her preferred booth--the one that had been Jane’s preferred booth even before she and Maura began spending time together outside of work. Though Angela was working bar that night, it was early enough still that she wasn’t too busy to come over to say hello. When Maura’s waitress brought over her salad, Angela excused herself to return to the bar, and Maura set up her tablet, opening a video call and propping up the device so she was in view of the camera. She plugged in her earbuds to avoid disrupting anyone around her.

When Jane’s face can into view on the screen, she was clearly in the middle of eating some kind of noodle dish.

“Ooo, what is that? Pho? From that little place around the corner?” Maura had been actively trying to get Jane to explore her neighborhood beyond the nearest pizzeria.

“Uh, no.” Jane held up the white styrofoam cup, stamped with the familiar brand label that sold for less than a dollar at the supermarket.

“Those are incredibly high in sodium.”

“Well, they’re incredibly delicious. And easy.”

Behind Jane, Maura could make out some items on the kitchen counter. “Is that a box of Twinkies? And powdered macaroni and cheese?”

“I also bought juice.” Jane waved a plastic jug in front of her camera.

“Is it from concentrate?”

“Um,” Jane peered at the label. “It’s… made with natural flavors.”

“It’s likely high in sugar.”

“Again, very delicious.”

“Tell me you at least bought something fresh.”

“Sure. Milk,” Jane said, “And eggs.”

Maura narrowed her eyes and sighed, knowing she’d been beaten. Jane was ridiculously stubborn, and it seemed to Maura the best tactic would probably be to set the issue of Jane’s poor food choices aside. “Well, I’m glad you made it home and at least got some grocery shopping done.”

Jane grunted. “Well it was either that or starve. Cameron asked me to get dinner, but I had laundry, so…” she dropped her gaze to her food and took another bite.

Maura cocked her head, “I thought you washed all your clothes at my house before you left.” Jane had jumped at the chance to use Maura’s “fancy” washer and dryer rather than relying on the coin operated machines in her building.

“Yeah, but I had laundry here. All my work clothes.”

“I did tell you you’d probably be happier washing those before you left.”

“Yeah, yeah. Remind me next time. Oh, and remind me about the dishes next time, too, because I spent way too long scrubbing them. But I still probably won’t listen.”

Maura laughed, and decided not to gloat. Instead, she asked, “How is Cameron?”

“He’s good. We’re good,” Jane shrugged, “He stayed over, so he’s not too mad I’m skipping dinner.”

“I’m sure he understands that you needed to do housework,” Maura said tactfully, electing not to press Jane for details. She was surprised, though, that Jane had let him stay, because she knew Jane strongly preferred to stay at his place. She wondered how and if he had reacted to the state of Jane’s apartment, though, Maura knew, Jane was rarely the type to straighten up for guests anyway. Perhaps he’d seen worse already. Or maybe he was just as sloppy. Given how much Jane had chafed at Casey’s domesticity, that actually seemed be ideal.

“Besides, that means I can run my next lesson plan by you, if that’s okay?”

“Sure,” Maura nodded, settling in with her salad to listen. Occasionally, Jane sought her opinions about things she was trying to teach because, she said, Maura’s was the only academic opinion she trusted. But Maura also knew that Jane’s approach to teaching was unique and effective precisely because Jane wasn’t an academic, so Maura was never quite sure her input was very valuable. Still, she wanted to be supportive, as Jane had always been of her endeavors, even the ones she didn’t understand.

They ate dinner together and talked through a few drinks about their upcoming weeks and their lives in general, and there were times when Maura almost forgot that she was at the Dirty Robber, and that Jane wasn’t actually right in front of her. It was so close to any other evening they might’ve spent together before Jane moved that it seemed neither of them wanted to end the call, though Maura was sure Jane probably had laundry to retrieve.

Business at the bar had been steady for most of the evening, but eventually, Angela made her way over to the table, “Maura! Look behind you, but don’t be obvious.”

“What do you mean?” Already Maura’s instinct was to glance over her shoulder.

“Wait!” Angela hissed, at the same time that Jane’s voice warned, “Maura!” from the headphones. Angela glanced at the screen. “Oh, hi, Janie!” Jane waved and greeted her mother, but her focus was on Maura. “Okay,” Angela said, “I’m going to step over here, and you look at me while we’re speaking, but from the corner of your eye I want you to take a look at the man on barstool number four in the gray suit.”

Maura did as she was instructed and asked, “The charcoal suit?”

“Whatever,” Angela waved her hand, “Listen, he’s a lawyer. Worked for the District Attorney’s office in Philadelphia. And he’s _very_ polite and handsome.”

Maura regarded the man surreptitiously, but nothing about him seemed appealing in the moment. He was handsome, certainly, and his suit fit him well, and Angela was usually a decent judge of character; Maura had gone on a few dates with people Angela had set her up with, and often she enjoyed them, even if no lasting connection followed. But for some reason, she couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm for the good-looking lawyer who understood police work at barstool four. “Thank you, Angela, but...I don’t know. I guess I’m just not interested in meeting him right now.”

“Alright, no problem,” Angela held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. Her expression turned coy, and she leaned a little closer to Maura, “Would you prefer if I look for a woman for you?”

Maura cocked her head, ready to reply that it really wasn’t necessary because she wasn’t sure she wanted to be dating at all, but immediately, Angela’s question intrigued her. Her sexual relationship with Simone had been brief, without romantic attachment, and devoid of any possibility of a future, but it had reminded Maura of how much she had missed intimacy with women. Maybe it would be worth going on a few dates for a chance at the same kind of brief, uncomplicated fling she’d enjoyed with Simone. “Actually, maybe that would interest me.”

“Put her on,” Jane’s voice came from the earbuds. As Maura handed one of the headphones to Angela, Jane continued, “Maura, you don’t have to indulge her.”

“Hey, she actually _likes_ when I introduce her to people,” Angela replied defensively. “Or at least, she’s always much more gracious about it than you ever were.” Sharing the earbuds left her leaned in close to Maura.

“That’s because you were _terrible_ at picking men for me,” Jane complained.

“Jane,” Maura started, “It’s fine. It’s kind of fun for us both.” She turned to Angela, “Thank you, Angela.”

“No problem,” Angela was grinning, clearly excited at the new opportunity to play matchmaker. She passed the earbud back to Maura and excused herself to return to the customers at the bar.

Maura turned back to the screen to see Jane, who looked unable to hide her annoyance. “It’s really okay,” she assured Jane.

“I know, I know,” Jane grunted. “Maybe I should’ve let her set you up years ago, so she’d leave me alone.”

But it seemed to Maura that Angela hadn’t tried to set Jane up with someone in a very long time. Perhaps she just hadn’t been privy to it. Her thoughts on the situation were disrupted by a loud crinkling sound in her ears. On the screen, Jane was now reaching into a large bag of potato chips.

“Are you purposely ignoring my warnings about sodium intake?” she asked.

“You didn’t warn me about anything,” Jane crunched her way through her words. “You just said it was in stuff.”

“Your eating habits cause me to be largely concerned with the probability of malnutrition.”

“Then,” Jane drawled, “it’s a good thing you’ll be here in less than two weeks to take me to the farmer’s market.”

“You do realize that you are capable of going there on your own, right?”

“If I go by myself, it’s weird.”

“How so?”

“Because then I’m just some lonely woman buying handmade soap and broccoli. If

you’re there, I’m with my fancy friend who knows recipes that need organic herbs.”

* * *

 

By the time Maura was on her next flight to DC, Jane had already consumed any of the grocery items she’d bought and was on to day-old Chinese food leftovers. She hated to admit it, but she was actually looking forward to the farmer’s market.

“What would you say if I had a great tip on a lasagna?” Cameron’s question broke her from the mundane daydream she’d been having about finding a perfect loaf of fresh French bread when she went out with Maura the next morning.

“I’d say I didn’t know my mother was in town,” Jane replied. She’d taken him up on an offer for a ride home, something that didn’t usually happen, given their schedules.

“Well, there’s a new Italian place in my neighborhood and I was thinking we could check it out for dinner tonight?”

“Sure, yeah. Maura and I hadn’t talked about dinner plans.”

“Right,” Cameron’s tone suggested that hadn’t been part of his initial plan. “I… forgot she was coming down this weekend.”

Jane sensed he was disappointed about the adjustment and considered the possibility of asking Maura to entertain herself while she went to dinner with Cameron. It would probably be fine and Maura usually took pride whenever she enabled Jane in regard to the possibility of sex. But Jane wasn’t looking to have sex, she wanted to hang out with the best friend she only saw for a couple days, every other week. “Her flight gets in around six,” Jane did the mental math of travel time plus any freshening up Maura would require before going back out. “So, dinner at seven-thirty?”

“Sounds good,” he replied with a smile. To his credit, Cameron seemed amenable to going along with Jane’s wishes. She liked that he was easygoing.

Maura, on the other hand, had what felt like a million questions once Jane mentioned they were meeting Cameron for dinner.

“What’s the name of the place?”

Jane hefted Maura’s bag into the trunk of the rental car. She didn’t need a car most of the time, but she’d resorted to renting one whenever Maura came to town, because after the first couple of early trips lugging organic goods home from the farmer’s market on public transportation, Jane decided a car was necessary. “Uh, something-nini’s.”

“It is _ristorante_ or _trattoria_ style?”

“They have lasagna,” Jane opened Maura’s door for her, shutting it once she was seated but before there was a chance for another question to surface.

“Is it--” Maura began to ask as soon as Jane sat in the driver’s seat.

“Maura, I have no idea, Cameron says it’s good, that’s all I know.”

“It’s a good thing I pack preparing for any reasonable eventuality.”

Jane glanced at her, “I highly doubt you’re underdressed. I’m wearing this.” She’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt before driving to the airport, while Maura was wearing a professional yet flattering blazer with well-creased slacks.

“Well, I’d still like to change out of these clothes, since I was on the plane.”

It was hard to argue with that, and Jane wasn’t motivated to persuade Maura otherwise. Instead, Jane let Maura throw suggestions at her for the cultural things they should experience this weekend, and Jane let her feelings be known with grunts or short interjections. Ultimately, she would be fine with whatever Maura chose, knowing they would always end up at her apartment by the late afternoon with all night to hang out.

Once they’d stepped into Jane’s apartment, which she’d made an effort to straighten up before Maura arrived, Maura wheeled her bag to its usual resting place by Jane’s bedroom door. Jane’s room more or less became Maura’s when she was visiting, and in an effort to make Maura feel welcome, Jane always made sure to change the sheets before she arrived. This didn’t bother Jane, though, and she also appreciated that Maura’s visits gave her a schedule to washing her sheets. Maura placed her purse down on the bed and then was crouching to open her suitcase. Jane looked on in amusement for a moment, until Maura disappeared into the bathroom, presumably to freshen up.

Jane glanced inside the room and saw the dress Maura had laid out on the bed to wear that evening, and couldn’t resist glancing down to assess her own appearance. One thing that she liked about spending time with Maura was that her physical beauty and femininity was often enough to make Jane’s lack of fashion sense less obvious--but only if Jane wasn’t dressed _too_ casually. Jane moved to her closet and exchanged her sweatshirt for a sweater, if only because she felt like everyone would be more comfortable if she chose something a little more flattering.

After Maura moved from the bathroom into the bedroom, Jane sat on the couch fiddling with the last fourth of the jigsaw puzzle she’d been working on until Maura emerged. The bedroom door had been open, so Jane didn’t quite notice until Maura was next to the couch, and then registered her turning her back toward Jane. “Zip me,” she requested over her shoulder, lifting up her hair.

Jane stood and carefully guided the dress closed with her other hand as she drew the zipper up, watching as the fabric covered the lightly freckled skin of Maura’s back. Once the she’d wrangled the clasp above the zipper closed, Maura turned and smiled, “Ready?” She began pulling on a different blazer and her winter jacket.

Crossing to pick up her own peacoat from the kitchen chair she’d slung it over, Jane nodded, “Ready.” She glanced at her watch. It was always impressive how quickly Maura could freshen up.

Once they’d found parking--which Maura had offered to pay for if only to get Jane to stop driving aimlessly around DC’s wandering streets to find free parking--they headed into the restaurant, where Cameron, who had arrived early, already had a table. He rose to kiss Jane in greeting and Maura offered her hand to shake. It was a friendly handshake and they exchanged warm greetings, though Maura and Cameron were by no means close. Most of the time that Maura was in town, Cameron was busy, so they still hadn’t spent much time together. But Maura seemed to approve of Cameron when they’d spoken about him, and Cameron had very quickly figured out how important Maura was to her, and had been respectful of that. Still, there remained a sense of worlds colliding when they all spent time together.

They sat, with Jane facing Cameron and Maura beside her. Once they’d received a round of drinks and each ordered lasagna, the conversation shifted to weekend plans.

“I’d really like to see the exhibit at the Natural History museum about color,” Maura was saying. “I think you would find it interesting as well, as it is supposed to be very hands-on.”

Jane sighed, pretending to be disinterested, but then said, “Sure, we could do that Sunday.” She brightened, “Ooh, I think we’d be close to Chinatown, can we get lunch there?”

Maura laughed a little, “Yes, but I get veto power.” Maura’s standards for an acceptable place to dine were a bit higher than Jane’s, even though Jane had tricked her into admitting that some of the places Jane liked had amazing food.

Cameron was looking on with interest, and finally said, “It’s a shame I’m busy Sunday, the exhibit sounds fascinating.”

Maura glanced at Jane, her expression uncertain, and Jane said, “Well, Saturday we’re probably just going to go shopping at the farmer’s market which...you would definitely not enjoy.”

Cameron raised his eyebrows, “You don’t think?”

“Really? Which one of us has been shopping with Maura?”

Maura made an affronted sound and Jane flashed her a grin, to signal that she was joking. Cameron’s expression was detached. “I guess you’re right about that,” he said, and then his face melted into its usual genial expression.

“I am a _fine_ person to shop with,” Maura defended herself, to herself. Jane couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“You are. That’s why we go every time you’re here,” Jane reassured her.

Cameron filled them in on his weekend plans, which included a work-related lunch meeting and a poker night with some male friends. Jane was momentarily jealous that she’d never been invited to poker night, but before she could express it, their food arrived. Besides, it was fine. While he played poker with his friends, she could play chess with Maura, which would be more challenging and less likely to end in her losing money.

Cameron and Jane had both ordered sausage lasagnas, while Maura had ordered one primarily filled with spinach and mushrooms. Cameron’s eyes were alight with excitement as his meal was placed in front of him, and he looked eagerly at Jane as she took her first bite.

Jane tasted her food and tried not to let her face reveal her disappointment. Instead, her gaze shot to Maura, and in a brief moment of eye contact, she could see that they were in agreement. Jane considered the taste, trying to decide if she was being unfair, but by the time she’d swallowed, she was certain.

“Well, what do you think?” Cameron was asking, his face expectant.

“It’s...good.” Jane tried to muster up some enthusiasm.

Cameron raised an eyebrow, “You don’t sound that impressed.”

While Jane tried to figure out how to respond, Maura moved to fill the awkward silence, as she was apt to do. “To be fair,” Maura said, gesturing delicately with her fork to her own meal, “Once you’ve had Jane’s mother’s lasagna, few others compare.”

“Ah, right, I forgot about that,” Cameron seemed a bit deflated, but he dug back into his own food with enthusiasm. “Still, this isn’t bad, right?”

“No, it’s good,” Jane was quick to reassure him. She didn’t want him to feel bad when he’d been so excited to share his restaurant find with her. “My mom uses too many vegetables in her lasagna nowadays anyway, since she started living with Maura.” It was a total lie. No matter how many vegetables her mother put into a lasagna, Jane was never disappointed. But it was a lie she didn’t mind telling, mostly so she could pick on Maura and reassure Cameron at the same time.

“Yeah, what is that like?” Cameron asked Maura. Cameron and Angela would be officially meeting in a few weeks, and Cameron was undoubtedly a bit nervous about that. Jane was a little, too, to be honest. She hated having to walk that line between a boyfriend or sort-of boyfriend and a mother who didn’t like him.

“Oh, well, Angela is great. She is a very maternal figure to me, but we are also good friends. And we look after each other, especially now that Jane isn’t around.” Maura smiled warmly at her, and Cameron shot her a proud look of his own. Jane focused back on her food. “She’s...a lot like Jane, really. She’s loyal, she’s protective and she is great company.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jane protested, “We’re not that alike,” she addressed Cameron.

“I guess I’ll see,” Cameron said, a waver in his voice betraying his nerves.

Though the lasagna wasn’t amazing, the dinner itself was fun. Jane decided not to order a second drink when the waitress came back, which both her companions noticed. Honestly, she didn’t want to linger over their meal, not when trying to make Cameron a part of her weekends with Maura still felt so awkward. Their brief scuffle over the check was a moment of levity, but that somehow made Jane feel even weirder.

As they were leaving, Cameron kissed her and said, “Well, I’ll let you know if my plans change this weekend, but otherwise, I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah, we’ll get dinner on Tuesday or something,” Jane suggested, and Cameron looked pleased.

As she and Maura headed home, she realized that she felt a little relieved that Cameron wouldn’t be available to spend time with them this weekend, but, she reasoned, it was mostly because things were still awkward. Now that she thought about it, she _didn’t_ know for sure if Cameron and Maura really liked each other. When Maura was dating Jack, Jane knew that Jack liked and respected her, because he’d given her a baseball. Cameron and Maura hadn’t had any personal exchanges that had bonded them, and being their only connection was stressful for Jane.

“Do you, ya know, like Cameron?” Jane asked.

Maura looked puzzled, “Do you mean platonically, or are you asking if I’m attracted to him?”

Jane groaned, “Maura! Obviously I mean do you like him as someone that I’m dating, because as my best friend, that’s important, right?”

Maura looked skeptical for a moment, but then she said, “He’s nice, he’s smart, he’s handsome, and he treats you well. I have no reason not to approve.” She caught Jane’s eye slyly as they stopped at a light. “Besides, I know he’s been good for your sex life, and I am very supportive of that.”

“ _Maura_ ,” Jane warned, though her tone was still light.

“I’m just saying, I know you didn’t pull that ‘try it standing up eating ice cream’ writing advice out of _nowhere_.” Maura even imitated Jane’s voice as she said it.

“ _Stop_ ,” Jane said, more firmly, but it only made Maura laugh.

They spent the evening lounging in Jane’s room in their pajamas with a bottle of wine. Maura was tired from her travel, and Jane from her workweek, so it sounded more appealing to recline as they watched TV in the bedroom rather than on the couch. And as the evening wore on, they brushed their teeth in order to officially end the wine drinking, and not long afterwards, were falling asleep next to one another on Jane’s bed.

This had happened a few times when Maura had stayed over, and usually Jane would wake up and retreat to the couch before long. She wanted to give Maura privacy when she stayed over, and honestly didn’t mind sleeping on the couch; sometimes she slept there accidentally in her normal life. But this time, Jane woke up to find she was alone, wrapped in a quilt and lying on top of her comforter. The sheets on Maura’s side of the bed were flipped up and her pillow was gone. As Jane shifted, she realized she was spread across most of the mattress, a lifetime habit developed out of being tall and never having lived with someone else to the point where she was sharing a bed on a nightly basis. The closest she’d ever come to the concept was when she’d still lived in Boston and spent most of her free time with Maura. But they weren’t sleeping together and, on the handful of occasions where they’d fallen asleep after sharing a bottle of wine, Maura’s massive bed had always left plenty of room for Jane’s long legs.

Sleepily, Jane got up and re-wrapped herself in her quilt, but she couldn’t help shivering as she crossed the hardwood floor of her bedroom and into the kitchen’s linoleum, both so cold under her bare feet. She squinted in the darkness and made out Maura’s shape on the couch, under the Sox throw, a pillow from the bedroom under her head. “Maura,” Jane grunted, “Maura, wake up.”

“Hmm?” Maura’s eyes didn’t open, but she inhaled a long breath.

“C’mon, go back to bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

After a long moment, Maura began stirring. “You don’t have to,” she protested weakly.

But Jane felt responsible for driving Maura away from the comfort of the bed. “C’mon, Maura.”

Maura kicked off the throw and sat up. When she stood, Jane passed her the quilt to take back to the bedroom and quickly slid under the throw and onto the couch, still warm with Maura’s body heat. Maura regarded her for a moment, then nodded once. “Good night, Jane.”

“‘Night, Maura.” And to Jane’s relief, she slept well on the couch that night.

The weekend was standard with the trip to the farmer’s market and a lazy Saturday afternoon, then Sunday brought brunch and Maura dragging Jane to see some kind of cultural exhibit only to be countered with Jane being in charge of the Netflix queue that evening.

And, as usual, when the car pulled up to take Maura to the airport, Jane grumbled about the weekend not being long enough, hugged her friend and made her promise to text when she landed. As if Maura ever forgot anything. Unless she was suffering a head injury. But even in that particular case, she’d employed some kind of technique to remind herself. In short, it was next to impossible for Maura to deviate from her established schedule.

Which was why, when Jane woke up around one-fifteen in the morning and didn’t have a text waiting for her, she checked to make sure her phone was still receiving a signal. It was. She closed the messenger app, then reopened it on the chance the app had frozen. Still nothing from Maura. She pressed the icon for a voice call.

There was no ring-through. Just Maura’s voice, “ _You’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. Maura Isles. I’m currently--_ ”

Jane ended the call and immediately scrolled through her recent emails. Had Maura forwarded her the flight itinerary? But there was nothing. In fact, she didn’t even know what airline Maura had used. Was it the same one, every time? She knew she always picked Maura up at a certain terminal, but there were a few airlines associated with it. It was late, she was still feeling a little wine buzz, and her detective skills had gotten slightly stagnant without needing to utilize them regularly.

She sent Maura a text asking if she was okay. Though by this point in the night, she’d usually received both a text that Maura had landed and one that she had made it home, perhaps Maura just needed a nudge tonight to remember to give Jane peace of mind. When a response didn’t immediately come through, and when Jane could see her text was delivered but not read, she switched to the Logan International website, scanning incoming flights to see if she could figure out which one was Maura’s. She was just beginning to examine the few flights incoming from DC when her screen faded for a moment, only to be replaced with an incoming call from Maura.

Jane answered immediately, “Maura! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Maura voice was subdued, “We just landed.”

Jane exhaled, and with her breath went a plethora of fears. “I was just worried, because I usually hear from you by now.”

“I was sleeping,” Maura explained softly, “So I didn’t realize we were late landing until we touched down just now. It seems there was some snowfall, so we circled in the air for twenty minutes or so before it was deemed safe to land. But we’re on the ground and I will be heading home shortly.”

“Okay, well,” Jane sank back against her headboard. “Text me when you get there.”

“I always do.”

After ending the call, Jane knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep until she knew Maura was safely in her own house. She shuffled into the kitchen, first habitually taking a glance into the fridge, then closing it before even really thinking about any of the contents. She was tired, but still feeling residual anxiety from the momentary worry over Maura. Even though it had been so quickly and easily resolved (or would be, as soon as she received that text message), it conjured up the terror she’d felt when Maura had been kidnapped. Her default was to not want to think about it, so she occupied herself with the drawer full of assorted kitchen items, digging through it until she found a rocket ship shaped tea infuser Maura had convinced her to buy at least three months ago. She hadn’t used it once, since then, and still had an unopened mason jar full of loose leaf chamomile that had been purchased at the same time. It was ridiculous and tedious to shove the dried leaves and flowery bits into the infuser, but at least the tea kettle was already whistling by the time Jane snapped loaded infuser closed. It hadn’t finished steeping when her phone finally buzzed with the confirmation message from Maura.

**Home, safe and sound.**

**Good.**

Jane snapped a picture of the sunken rocket, submerged in chamomile tea, then sent the photo to Maura without comment.

**Sleep well, Jane. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

“What’s the weather like, down there? Warmer?” The questions came from Angela, who was taking a break from her shift behind the bar and slipping into the seat across the booth from Maura.

“Generally slightly warmer, but still within the range of expected winter temperatures,” Maura replied, “Though this weekend, it appears it may be unseasonably warm.” Over the last several months, she’d taken to having more meals a week at the Dirty Robber than at home, sometime because she was grabbing something to eat between a case at BPD, a shift at the clinic, or a writing workshop. But also because, in the past, she’d often cooked dinners at home for herself and Jane (and Angela, when she wasn’t working). Maura was excellent at entertaining herself, but cooking for one in a large empty house sometimes left her feeling mildly depressed. Perhaps this was why she was becoming more receptive to Angela’s desire to play matchmaker.

“I need to finish packing when I get home tonight. I don’t know how you travel with so little luggage.”

“I generally don’t. But after my first trip down to see her Jane said she’d refuse to pick me up at the airport if I brought ‘the whole closet’ with me every time I visited.”

“Oh, she’d still do it, she’d just gripe about it the whole time.” Angela laughed and Maura joined in.

This was the first trip Angela had taken down to DC since Jane had moved. Maura knew that it was, in part, an early Valentine’s Day getaway for Angela and Ron, and for that reason, she had suggested that perhaps she should stay home. But Jane had vetoed that idea immediately. “Please don’t leave me alone in DC with my mother,” Jane had begged, “Besides, they’re probably gonna want to see _cultural_ stuff, and I need you there to help with that.” In the end, Angela had seemed excited that Maura was coming to DC, too, and besides, Angela and Ron were staying in a hotel, and Maura was staying with Jane, so the couple would have plenty of time alone and privacy to celebrate an early Valentine’s Day.

“Oh, how did your date go the other night?” Angela abruptly changed the subject, and Maura set aside thoughts about the weekend. The upcoming romantic holiday had been amplifying Maura’s sense of loneliness a bit, to the end that she had agreed to a date Angela had arranged. Angela had met a visiting art scholar who was intending to attend a gallery opening at the Boston Museum of Art, and as Maura had been considering attending herself as a friend of the museum, she agreed to accompany the scholar. They’d ended up having a good time together, and his expertise meant he had the capability of conversing with Maura at length about many of the works on display. He was also handsome, polite, well-dressed and clearly quite knowledgeable about art--all very good qualities. But in spite of that, there hadn’t been a spark, and though Maura had appreciated the evening of stimulating conversation, they had parted with no more than a friendly hug.

Maura carefully considered her reply, because somehow the prospect of hurting Angela’s feelings with the rejection of the guy was more daunting than turning him down--not that she’d had to explicitly, he’d gotten the hint on his own, and from what Maura could tell, he hadn’t felt an attraction to her, either. “He was a very nice gentleman, but we didn’t...connect, romantically,” Maura explained, “We had a good time at the gallery, though.”

Angela nodded, and to Maura’s relief, didn’t seem very disappointed. “Well, I’m glad you gave him a chance. I’m still looking for a possible lady match for you, but…” She looked around surreptitiously for a moment, “How do you, ya know...tell? If a woman might be into...that sort of thing?”

“Well,” Maura asked, “How do you choose the men you introduce me to?”

“Oh, I try to make sure they have similar interests as you. Or sometimes it’s because I notice them noticing you. And I make sure they’re handsome, of course.”

“Of course,” Maura chuckled, “Okay, so...I would say use the same criteria for women you encounter. Even when Jane went undercover as a lesbian--”

“Wait. She what? Is that why Giovanni is always saying those weird things about her?” Angela sounded intrigued, if a little amused.

The question gave Maura pause, because she was inclined to inform truthfully, but in this case, it seemed likely that doing so would violate Jane’s privacy. It was clear that Angela didn’t know that Giovanni thought they were a couple, and she had to surmise that Jane didn’t want her to know about their continued ruse. Now confronted with the idea, Maura realized she didn’t need Angela to know about it, either, as her ultimately truncated fling with Giovanni was personal, embarrassing and weird. Not to mention, it had impacted Angela getting her car fixed, and the implications of that felt even more unethical in hindsight. “No that was...just Giovanni. Jane went undercover as a lesbian in a bar and online, and even she joked that she might ‘turn gay’ for a woman with Celtics season passes. The power of shared interest can be a great catalyst for connection.”

Angela was laughing, though her tone was fierce as she said, “Jane never tells me anything! I’m glad you’re more open.”

But there was a glint of mischief in Angela’s eye, and Maura was abruptly concerned that she’d misjudged the boundaries of Jane’s privacy and revealed too much. It had seemed safe, because they were discussing Jane’s former job, and Angela seemed much more inclined to look kindly on Jane’s years on the police force now that Jane was in DC. It occurred to Maura, though not for the first time, that perhaps she could try Merch as an option if she were seeking a female lover. She had certainly gotten enough phone numbers when she had been undercover as a cocktail waitress at the bar, though she hadn’t pursued any of those women at the time, invested as she was in observing Jane’s experience, both for professional and personal reasons. In retrospect, a little part of Maura had been trying to discern whether Jane was just closeted at the time, since their friendship outside of work was so new.

As her mirth faded, though, Angela still looked uncertain, “But that still doesn’t tell me how do I know if it would even be worth asking a woman who might be a good fit. How do _you_ tell?”

Maura frowned, because it wasn’t something she could explain precisely, but she made an attempt, “I just sort of…” but she trailed off, because there was no way to finish her thought in concrete terms.

Smirking, Angela said, “It’s an instinct, isn’t it? A gut feeling?”

“Please don’t tell Jane that I ‘listen’ to my intestines on occasion, but yes, that is the best way to describe it.”

Looking highly pleased with herself, Angela said, “Alright, so I’ll be keeping my eyes open for any attractive ladies with your shared interests, and I’ll _trust my gut_ if I don’t catch them checking you out first.”

Maura shook her head as Angela headed back to the bar. She’d finished eating a little while ago, she was just enjoying a glass of wine and the bar’s comfortable atmosphere, but maybe it was almost time to head home and try to write, since she wouldn’t have time to do so over the weekend.

Maura’s phone buzzed in her purse, and she pulled it out to see Jane was calling her. She settled back into the booth as she accepted the call, “Hello, Jane.”

“Hey,” Jane sounded happy, but tired, “Are you ready for this weekend?”

“Of course. Although, your mother keeps asking me about the weather and what I think she should pack.”

“She does that and then she still does whatever she wants.”

“Then it must be a genetic trait.”

“Hey! I don’t do that.”

“That’s true. You rarely ask for advice before doing whatever you want.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jane replied. “You’re coming in on Virgin, right?”

“Yes.” After the scare about Maura’s flight last time she’d traveled, Jane was being more proactive about making sure she knew the itinerary. Especially after Maura had pointed out that she always left a post-it on Jane’s refrigerator with the details of her flight from DC to Boston.

“Wait, when did you start doing this?” Jane had asked.

“After my second trip down to see you.”

“And you leave one every time?”

“Yes,” Maura confirmed. “I replace the old one with a new one, each visit.”

“Well, if you put it in the same exact place, I guess it just blended in.”

But Maura knew it had bothered Jane, having missed such an important detail, which was likely why she had a new interest in confirming the upcoming travel plans. So, this time, when Jane picked Maura (and Angela and Ron) up at Dulles, she likely had the flight number memorized.

“I don’t like waiting this long to see you,” Angela said, finally releasing Jane from a lengthy hug.

“Ma, it’s barely been a month since I was in Boston. Before that it had been six.” Jane gave Ron a one-armed hug and murmured a greeting.

“Don’t remind me!”

Jane rolled her eyes as she turned to Maura, and Maura grinned at her, then they were moving together for a hug. It wasn’t a very long hug, but it was strong. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Jane told her quietly, though the dry edge to her tone suggested it was partially a dig at Angela.

“Me, too,” Maura laughed softly, then Jane squeezed once more before letting go. She then moved to open the trunk of her rental sedan and began sliding luggage into place.

Despite both Jane and Maura’s insistence that Angela take the front passenger seat, she climbed into the back with Ron. As Jane secured the trunk, Maura took advantage of the fact that Angela was momentarily out of earshot. “Fair warning, she was asking a lot of questions about frequent flyer benefits.”

Jane sighed, but she shrugged, “I suppose I earned it.”

Despite the resistance Jane exhibited when it came to her mother’s involvement in her life, Maura had learned, over time, that it was part of their ebb and flow. The undulatory locomotion was necessary to keep them moving, to avoid stagnation. Perhaps, if she and her own mother had experienced more ups and downs during Maura’s childhood, they might have had an entirely different relationship. But then, would Maura have been shaped into the person she was today? As a scientist, she didn’t believe in predetermined fate, but she understood the direct and indirect ramifications of cause and effect.

Whatever the case, she was certainly pleased to be packed into a rental car with the two Rizzolis and Ron, even if they were only slowly moving through the rush hour traffic.

“What time is dinner?” Angela asked.

“Six-thirty,” Jane replied, glancing in the rearview, then impatiently dropping her head back against the headrest.

“Is Cameron meeting us at the apartment?”

“No, Ma. At the restaurant.”

“Is he working? Is that why he didn’t meet us at the airport?”

“He wouldn’t have fit in the car.” Jane gestured around her, emphasizing the fact that with people and purses and suitcases, the rental sedan was pretty full.

“He doesn’t have a car?”

“He has a car. It just didn’t make sense to pay for parking, twice.”

Angela hummed in response and the conversation dropped to a lull.

After a moment, Jane spoke, “Maura, look up the exit for the hotel for me?”

“We aren’t going to go by your apartment?” Angela asked from the backseat.

“Uh, I wasn’t planning...I mean, I guess we could?” Jane looked thrown.

“Of course we want to see your apartment!” Angela insisted.

“I would appreciate the chance to step inside and change my clothes,” Maura added encouragingly. Sometimes it was difficult to ignore the fact that she had just been inside a flying incubator of disease.

Jane agreed, though there was reluctance in her tone. She navigated them through the traffic to her building, then up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door and gestured her family inside. “Well, come in.”

“Wow, okay. Kinda dark in here,” Angela said as she moved into the apartment. Jane reached past Maura to flip a light switch on the wall, though the room was still pretty dim as the light bulbs warmed up. Jane stood awkwardly at the entryway while Angela immediately began poking around the living space while Ron followed her, observing but not touching much.

“You can go change in the bedroom if you want,” Jane told Maura, who carried her bag into the room to quickly change her clothes, knowing Jane didn’t want to linger with her mother in her apartment. She could hear the conversation through the door.

“Ooh. Vintage Fenway. Very nice,” Ron had apparently noticed Jane’s poster that she had prominently displayed on her wall, and he sounded admiring.

“Thanks,” Jane laughed, “You know, I don’t think anyone else who’s visited has ever been happy to see that.”

“Well at least you have something on the walls to give this place some character.” Angela said, though she sounded like she was trying to be encouraging. Maura heard some shuffling sounds, then, “Why don’t you have any food in here?”

“That’s why Maura’s here to take me to the farmer’s market,” Jane’s tone was a bit pointed.

“You can’t feed yourself without your best friend’s help?”

“I feed myself just fine, Ma.”

“Where’d you get this?” Angela asked. There was a soft sound, like fabric.

“Ikea,” Jane answered, then, “It’s comfortable.” Maura realized they were likely discussing Jane’s sofa, relatively generic, and one that Maura would describe as reasonably comfortable.

“Where does Maura sleep?” Angela asked.

“My bed,” Jane responded evenly, but moments later she was huffing, “I sleep on the couch, Ma.”

“Maybe you need a bigger bed. After all, I’m sure Cameron doesn’t sleep on the couch.”

Moments later, Maura emerged from the bedroom, and after a pointed nod from Jane, she closed the door behind her. “Well, we’d better leave now if you want time to settle into your hotel room before dinner,” Jane said briskly, moving toward the apartment’s main door. Maura took the hint and followed, urging Angela along with her.

“Thank you for letting me change,” Maura said discreetly to Jane as they descended the stairs ahead of Angela and Ron.

“Oh, no problem,” Jane muttered back, “She would’ve asked embarrassing questions no matter where we were.”

On the drive to the hotel, Maura took it upon herself to entertain Angela and Ron with historical details about some of the locale, fielding questions and, more importantly, giving Jane a reprieve from her mother’s inquizzitive nature. Knowing Angela, Maura knew there was likely to be a seemingly overwhelming amount of prodding over dinner, as this was the first real social interaction Angela was going to have with Cameron. In the time since Jane had moved, Maura fielded at least a question a week about the guy Jane was dating. Whenever she returned home from a visit, there was some kind of inquiry about whether or not any new information had surfaced. To Maura, it was fun, she and Angela were friends. To Jane, it was mortifying, given the way she threw back her head and groaned whenever Maura mentioned any of these conversations.

Once at the hotel, Angela and Ron got checked in and took their bags up to their room, while Jane steered Maura to the hotel bar and restaurant. Cameron wasn’t there yet, as it was still early, but Jane settled onto a barstool with a light groan. “I need a beer,” she muttered.

Maura perched on the stool next to her and began perusing the wine list. The hotel was nice, though not extravagant, and they had a decent selection. “Are you ready for this?” she asked Jane.

“Nope,” Jane forced a grin, then made eye contact with the bartender, “A shot of tequila and a Blue Moon.”

“Preference on the shot?” asked the bartender.

Jane shook her head. “Not really.”

Maura felt the need to intervene. “Make it Patron Silver,” she said, nodding to the bottle on an upper shelf. Before Jane could argue about the price, Maura put a hand on her arm. “I’ll handle the bar tab if you promise me you’re not going to get wasted on cheap tequila in front of your mother.”

“My mother’s a bartender,” Jane shot back. But she accepted the drink without complaint.

Maura had no interest in getting drunk, particularly on something as aggressive as tequila, and ordered a glass of familiar cabernet, pacing herself incase she needed to be the one to drive back to Jane’s apartment.

Despite Jane’s anxiety, the evening progressed rather nicely. Cameron was on time for dinner and Angela beamed at him from across the table, complementing his vibrant eye color and laughing at his goofy jokes. He and Jane had a lot in common, given their love for their jobs. It was no wonder they’d ended up dating. When Maura had encouraged Jane to make a move on him, back in Boston, it had been out of habit. Jane was never one to put herself out there, so to speak. The men she dated had to be guys she already knew, either from work or other aspects of her life. It had been natural to tease Jane, to give her a nudge and a wink about the handsome, charming FBI agent who expressed interest in her. She hadn’t expected to walk into Jane’s apartment to find a practical stranger getting dressed after what was clearly an eventful night. But Jane seemed happy with what had happened and Maura enjoyed seeing Jane’s happiness.

She hadn’t expected it to turn into something long-term. But that was because Jane barely managed to hold onto any relationship for very long. The men in her life always seemed to be on paths that headed in other directions. Jane appeared to handle it well, though Maura knew that was because Jane didn’t talk about much and maybe these things had bothered her much more than she’d let on. When Jack and Maura had broken up, Jane was certainly attuned to Maura’s mood and incredibly focused on making her feel better, which suggested Jane was no stranger to heartache, no matter how much she buried it.

Seeing Angela so pleased with Cameron should have made Maura feel some kind of happiness for her friend, but she found herself slightly (and illogically) annoyed by it. She ordered another glass of wine. If they needed to call a cab, so be it.

* * *

Jane was starving. Lunch had been hours ago, and she had run out of snacks at her apartment a few days earlier. She’d also been having Easy Mac for dinner the past few nights, which meant she was craving something with a little more substance.

When her bacon cheeseburger arrived, she was pretty singularly focused on it, but then she’d remember that everyone else around her was here for the conversation and company.

“So, Angela,” Cameron was saying next to her, “Are you originally from Boston?”

“I am, but my parents are from New York,” Angela replied. Jane tuned out a little bit as Angela explained how her parents had ended up in Boston and about growing up in the old neighborhood--the same neighborhood Jane had been raised in. It wasn’t new to her, though Cameron made interested sounds throughout. Even Maura and Ron, to whom the story couldn’t possibly be new, were focused on it.

“Well, I’d love to come and see the old neighborhood sometime,” Cameron turned to her and flashed a grin, his eyes soft.

Jane shrugged. The idea didn’t interest her very much, because the old neighborhood was so much more about the people there, friends and neighbors, than the buildings she could show Cameron. “Sure, we could do that, but if you want to see Boston, you should see downtown or Beacon Hill. I mean, that’s the Boston that feels like home to me now, anyway, what with it being where Maura and most of my family live.”

“Ah, okay,” Cameron said, though his enthusiasm sounded a little forced, “That would be great, too.”

“So tell me about...where is it you were from again?” Angela asked him.

“Baltimore,” Cameron answered just as Jane began to speak.

“Ma, you don’t have to grill him.”

“I am doing no such thing!” Angela sounded affronted.

Soothingly, Cameron said, “Really, it’s fine.” He gave Jane a direct look, “Don’t worry.”

Jane didn’t know why she’d had such a strong reaction, but something about the way her mother seemed to be fishing for information had put her instinctively on guard. She took a breath and reminded herself that so far everything seemed to be going pretty well. Cameron was charming enough all on his own that Angela had warmed to him almost immediately. But conversation had stayed pretty superficial until their food had arrived, and as it turned personal, Jane began to feel certain that one or the other of them was about to embarrass her greatly.

Cameron began to talk a little bit about Baltimore--mostly stuff Jane already knew--and he and Angela were mostly carrying the conversation, and talking primarily to each other. She noticed that on the other side of the table, Ron and Maura were conversing on their own, apparently about a doctor who had started a winery as a mission to find the grapes that produced the wine with the greatest health benefits. It reassured Jane, because it felt so normal.

“And Jane,” Jane focused back on her mother at the sound of her name, “well, you know how she can be.”

Cameron laughed fondly, “Of course.”

Jane smiled at them both, a little uncertainly. “I’m so glad you’re getting along,” was the only response she could come up with. She noticed that with all the talking they’d been doing, that they had a lot of food left, while she was over half finished with hers. She sat back from her plate a little and reached for her beer, figuring she’d focus on that for awhile.

Angela laughed, “I’m glad he’s here to keep you in line since you’re so far away from everyone else,” she turned back to Cameron, “It was so nice to have her home for Christmas, so I could actually check up on her, you know?”

“Christmas was pretty great,” Jane agreed. She didn’t want to talk about how hard it was to miss her mother sometimes.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Angela smiled, “We had so much fun,” she told Cameron.

Jane explained, “Yeah, we went skating on Christmas Eve, and it was Maura and my nephew’s first time on the ice. That was our big family thing this year.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Maura laughed, and Jane realized she and Ron had been drawn back into the conversation. “I couldn’t wear heels for a few days after that.”

“She didn’t break them in properly,” Jane explained to Cameron, then she pointed at Maura across the table, “I had to carry you out!” she teased.

“And I appreciated it,” Maura sounded amused, “Just like you appreciated the time in the Adirondacks.”

Jane groaned, then laughed, “Yeah, I did.” In the moment of silence that followed, she realized that everyone else at the table was awaiting explanation. She didn’t really want to go into it, but she sighed, and glanced at Maura, and said, “Maura had this crazy idea that we should go camping.” The waiter passed by, and she nodded at the offer of another beer.

“When I suggested it, I didn’t realize we had different ideas about what camping would entail,” Maura interjected.

“Yeah, I figured she’d go for the fully furnished, temperature controlled cabin with a fire pit. I was ready to drink beer and eat hotdogs from the fire all weekend, and cook ‘em over the stove if it was raining.”

“Whereas I,” Maura said, “wanted to experience something a little more rustic.”

“She wanted to live off the land.”

“Ideally, yes, but Jane talked me into at least bringing food supplies with us.”

“There was no way I was foraging for berries.”

“We chose a rustic cabin, no electricity but with running water--”

Jane couldn’t stop herself from interjecting, “Which you finally agreed to because I remembered that stuff about disease from the documentary on Dr. Listerine you made me watch.”

“Joseph Lister,” Maura corrected. Always ready to inform, she sidestepped into an explanation, “He was a pioneer in the realm of antiseptic surgery.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m still in suspense about the cabin,” Cameron said.

“Right!” Maura went right back into the story, “It was approximately a half a mile hike from a parking area for the car, so we carried everything in on our backs.”

“I hauled a rolling cooler with a 24-pack and a couple bottles of wine, because I was still planning on beer and campfire, even moreso if there was no electricity and literally nothing else to do.” Jane nodded her thanks as the waiter placed her next beer in front of her, and began to work on it.

Maura shot her a challenging look. “Well, Jane was right about bringing food, but I still wanted a certain experience. I’d brought a fishing rod, and Jane agreed to teach me what she remembered about fishing at Sprout Camp.”

“I didn’t remember much,” Jane clarified.

“But when we went down to the riverbed, the bank was muddier and more slick than either of us realized. Jane fell first, which gave me time to catch myself, though her foot got stuck in the mud, and she twisted her ankle on the way down.”

“At least when I injure myself out in nature, I only do it with a doctor around,” Jane smirked. Cameron chuckled a little.

“I took care of the injury the best I could with what I had. But the next morning we were supposed to walk back to the car. And though we’d eaten much of what we’d taken to camp, there were no garbage facilities, so we still had trash to haul back, including all the bottles we’d drank.”

“And here I was walking with a stick because it was the closest thing we had to a crutch.”

“So I wore Jane’s backpack on the front of my body, mine on the back, and dragged the cooler so she could focus on navigating the trail with her injury. And though it ultimately didn’t weigh _too_ much, the garbage did smell. And it was right beneath my nose.”

“But that’s not even half as bad as the time you,” Jane rounded on Angela, “twisted your ankle learning to ice skate.”

“How is that worse?” Angela asked.

“You _lied_ about learning to ice skate,” Jane teased. “Didn’t she?” she appealed to Maura.

“You did,” Maura confirmed regretfully.

“Well I learned eventually,” Angela shrugged. “What about when you sprained your ankle running and had to wear that boot?”

“Don’t remind me,” Jane groaned.

She let Maura and Angela tease her about it for a bit, enjoying the easy banter with her best friend and her mother. She noticed Cameron turn his attention to Ron after a moment, saying, “It must be hard, keeping up with these ladies.”

Ron laughed, “You have no idea. When it’s the whole family, it’s chaos. But the good kind.”

Jane liked that Cameron was making an effort, and the two men fell into a conversation about baseball. It felt good. It felt like Cameron might fit in okay with her family, after all.

Over dessert and coffee (and the last beer Jane had ordered with her coffee), Angela asked, “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow? Cameron, will you be joining us?”

Jane answered for him, “No, I’m sparing him. He’s lived here for years.” She explained to him, “We’re just doing the basics tomorrow. You know, National Archives, Air and Space Museum, Natural History, maybe even American History.”

“Well, I’d be happy to see those again with you guys, but you’re right, tomorrow I should put in some time at work. Maybe Saturday? What are your plans?”

“Probably some more of the touristy stuff,” Jane said, “If you’re sure you won’t be too bored?” She wanted to give him an out. She knew he’d gone to so many of these museums and attractions with visiting family and friends over the years.

“Just let me know and I’ll maybe I’ll be able to meet up with you then.”

“Sure, sounds good,” Jane agreed.

As they finished up their meals and settled their bills, Maura approached her side, “I’ll drive us to your apartment. Just be my navigator.”

“Yeah, you probably should,” Jane agreed quietly. Though Jane typically unwound with a drink or two at night, she’d had several tonight, and now that she was moving around the hotel restaurant, she realized she was fairly tipsy. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious to those who didn’t know her as well as Maura did. And though Maura had two glasses of wine early on during the meal, she hadn’t maintained that pace, and had ended up not ordering a third glass. She hoped that meant that the meal hadn’t been awkward for everyone else, because for her, maintaining a steady consumption of alcohol felt like the only way to stay calm that evening.

As they left the restaurant, they walked to the elevators and said goodnight to Angela and Ron. Angela gushed one more time about how great it had been to meet Cameron, then grabbed Jane and Maura in crushing hugs before following Ron into the elevator. Jane, Maura and Cameron then headed out to where they’d parked.

Cameron hung back, and Jane, sensing an opportunity, let Maura walk ahead of them a little. “That went okay,” Jane said to him, seeking confirmation.

“Sure,” he agreed, “Your mom is great. You guys have fun tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we will,” Jane glanced away to see that Maura was standing next to the rental car, phone in her hand, clearly waiting for Jane but trying to give them some privacy.

“I’ll see you Saturday?” Cameron’s voice brought her attention back.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Jane said.

“Great,” he said, and leaned in for a brief, almost friendly hug. He had pulled away and turned toward his own parked car before Jane could even come up with anything else to say.

She began walking toward Maura, who looked up from her phone and smiled, tucking it back into her purse. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Jane let Maura open the passenger door for her and she collapsed into her seat, her head still spinning a little. Mostly, though, she let herself sink down, letting her body go limp, because now that she was with just Maura, she felt like she could finally relax.

Maura slid into the driver’s seat and glanced over at Jane, “You alright?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jane murmured, “I’m good.”

Maura nodded and started the car. Jane gave her directions for a few minutes, but once Maura was on the main route, she was able to start processing more parts of the evening.

“I think Cameron might be mad at me?” Jane said abruptly, though she realized belatedly that she had phrased her thought as a question.

“Why would that be?” Maura asked, glancing at Jane with a furrowed brow. “It seemed to me everything went very well tonight.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too, but there was just something...off about the way we said goodnight. He was quick and didn’t kiss me.”

“Well,” Maura said, “We had just been talking with you mother. And I was right there.”

“Ma had already gone upstairs and you being around hasn’t stopped him before.”

“I can’t possibly know what he was thinking, but I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation.” Maura sounded brisk, confident, but Jane wasn’t so sure.

“Maybe he could tell I’m a little drunk.” The thought didn’t exactly cheer Jane, because it was a bit embarrassing, but it was an explanation that fit.

“Maybe,” Maura chuckled.

Jane guided her back to the apartment, and as they climbed the stairs of Jane’s building, Maura put a steadying hand on her back. Jane didn’t really need it, but she appreciated it, and once they got inside, she collapsed onto the sofa.

Maura busied herself for a minute with unpacking, at least as well as she could. Jane stared at the ceiling and tried to psyche herself up for the next day’s activities, but, as tired and tipsy as she was, it was difficult to muster enthusiasm to do anything that involved moving.

“Can we order a pizza?” Jane asked as Maura passed by the couch.

Maura peered over the back of the sofa at her, “We just ate dinner. And dessert.”

“I’m still hungry.”

Maura laughed, “You are not.” She moved over to the kitchen and returned with a tall glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

Jane took it and gulped several sips, though Maura’s eyes on her were ultimately incentive to finish the glass. Maura took it and refilled it, and when she brought it back, she settled next to Jane on the couch, letting Jane stretch her legs across her lap. “Well if you won’t let me order pizza, I’m gonna pick what we watch,” Jane reached for the remote.

“That seems fair,” Maura replied, though she was grinning.

“And we’re gonna watch…” Jane flipped around until she landed on TVLand, which was generally a safe bet for low-impact television. The newer shows were kind of dumb but funny, while the classic shows were nostalgic pieces of Jane’s childhood. In most cases, the older sitcoms she’d grown up on were brand-new to Maura. Currently, the option was something ridiculous and new. “Ah, okay. _Teachers_ is on. You were a teacher. And I’m a teacher.” It was almost a belated realization. She still had trouble wrapping her head around her change in profession. “It’ll be perfect.”

Maura’s presence continued to remind Jane to drink water, which she did as they watched the show together. Maura seemed to grow increasingly concerned at the program, “These teachers are not particularly effective.”

“No, they are. That’s the joke,” Jane insisted, “In fact,” she teased, “I think my next lesson plan is going to look just like this.” She waved a hand at the TV, where one of the teachers appeared to be enacting a psychological study with questionable ethical boundaries on her students.

“Jane, that is...please tell me you’re pranking me.”

“Nope,” Jane insisted, straight-faced. She took another gulp of water in an attempt to hide the smirk that was threatening to creep through. “I’m an _unconventional_ teacher, remember? I get all my great ideas from this show.”

“You’re pranking me,” Maura decided, turning away from Jane and back to the TV.

“Believe what you want,” Jane chuckled. But watching the show did make her a little sad. She kind of wished she had the freedom the teachers on the show seemed to have. Teaching was most fun when she was a guest lecturer and had a lot of flexibility. She still tried to teach that way, emphasizing the experiences she’d had and what she could glean from that to pass along to her students, but she had specific curricula to follow, and there were times that she didn’t know how to make the material practical and engaging. Teaching was a lot harder than she’d expected, and some days, she hardly felt like the authority in the classroom.

Jane didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she woke up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. The TV was still on, the volume lower, and the Red Sox blanket was tucked around her, undoubtedly Maura’s doing. Maura was gone, presumably in bed. Jane got up, used the toilet, and drank another glass of water before curling back onto the couch, secure in the knowledge that she and Maura were safe and happy here in her apartment.

* * *

“I tried to tell her you would be better than a tour, but no, she had to have the free tote bag,” Jane was griping a little as she and Maura stood several feet away from the small tour Angela and Ron were on in the National Archives. Maura had been asked to please step away from the tour when she couldn’t refrain from fact checking and elaborating upon the points the tour guide was trying to make. Maura understood, though it was disappointing to be asked to stop helping. At least Jane would listen to her, even if her eyes glazed over during some of the minor details.

“At least they seem to be enjoying it,” Maura conceded, watching as Angela and Ron appeared to be giving the guide their rapt attention.

“I still think maybe they should worry if a guest seems to know more than the guide.” Jane seemingly picked up that Maura was still ruffled from the experience and gestured to the building next to them. “Well…what’s something most people don’t know about this place?”

Maura was happy to take the opportunity to share some of her knowledge, and she performed her own impromptu tour for Jane as they followed Angela and Ron’s tour through the building. Jane appeared amused, but gave Maura most of her attention, even asked questions and interjected her own snarky comments. But she kept glancing at her phone, looking uncertain.

Maura assumed she was probably keeping an eye on the time, as the afternoon was beginning to slowly disappear. But as they left the National Archives and waited for Angela and Ron to finish in the gift shop, Jane asked to take a selfie of herself and Maura, “to remember the highly informative private tour you gave me.”

As they framed the picture, Jane passed her phone to Maura, preferring an angle from Maura’s reach. As Maura prepared to take the shot, she saw a text push through. Ever curious for knowledge, Maura was reading it before she could even admonish herself for invading Jane’s privacy, and given how quickly Maura read, within a moment she knew it was a text from Cameron, he was finished with his obligations for the day, and he was asking to meet up.

Maura awkwardly passed the phone back to Jane, who was looking over the picture of them and grinning. Maura debated whether she should say something about the text. She was enjoying spending time with just Jane, Angela and Ron, but perhaps that was selfish of her. Though she’d met Cameron multiple times, part of purpose of this trip was to allow Angela and Cameron to get to know each other. Maura’s social awkwardness around new people shouldn’t dictate how the day would be spent, so finally, she decided to say something.

“You got a text while I was taking that picture. I didn’t mean to pry, but it was from Cameron.”

“Yeah,” Jane frowned, “He’s been texting a little bit since he was finishing up work early.” She sighed and shrugged, “I told him maybe we could meet for dinner. He really doesn’t have to do the museums with us.”

Maura’s instinct was to suggest that some people actually enjoyed touring museums outside of special occasions or school trips, which were the times Jane was most likely to spend time viewing exhibits without too much resistance. But she also realized this wasn’t about Cameron’s enjoyment of culture. Jane was being Jane, creating a buffer for some reason that Maura couldn’t quite determine. She didn’t press it because she was certainly enjoying the afternoon and the chance to play tour guide. By the time the official tour wrapped up, Angela was tired from all the walking and Ron kept mentioning a game he wanted to catch on television, so after dropping them at the hotel, Jane and Maura were left to sort out their own plans for the remainder of the evening. From the passenger seat, Maura began swiping through her restaurant app, but Jane waved her hand over the screen.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d really just like to grab some pizza and beer to take home.”

It was far from a surprise, but it also sounded like a wonderfully casual close to the day. “I will agree, with one stipulation being that there are at least--”

“--two kinds of vegetables, I know.”

“The sauce doesn’t count as one.”

“It’s made of tomatoes.” But Jane crossed her eyes in reluctant submission. “Fine, mushroom and onion.”

“Mushrooms are technically fungi, but I’ll allow it.” She considered asking if she should text Cameron while Jane drove to the pizzeria, but a part of her selfishly wanted to carry on without him. If Jane wanted to invite him over, that was up to her. He saw Jane all the time while Maura was relegated to every other weekend, due to geography. Intellectually, she knew this was a fair arrangement, as balanced as it could be, given the distance and each of their other respective responsibilities. But there were also moments when Maura found herself lingering in the past, wishing Jane was five minutes away, or already downstairs in her kitchen, clearing the refrigerator of leftovers.

So, when the pizza was gone and empty beer bottles were cleared from the coffee table, Maura didn’t question why Jane never called her boyfriend (that was his relationship to her, for all intents and purposes, despite Jane’s reluctance to refer to him that way) to come over.

But Maura wasn’t about to complain, because Friday night into Saturday morning felt like a typical weekend spent together, since that morning they were preparing to head to the farmer’s market, with intentions to meet Angela and Ron for lunch and colonial tours in Alexandria that afternoon. Jane had mentioned that she might invite Cameron along for the colonial part of the sightseeing, but it appeared the farmer’s market would be just Jane and Maura, and the familiarity of the experience was comforting.

With travel mugs full of the French press coffee Maura had made at Jane’s apartment and a greasy but delicious fast food breakfast sandwich each--the easiest quick option, since Jane didn’t have much to make breakfast with at home--they entered the farmer’s market, and even Jane looked eager. It was unseasonably warm for February, which meant doors were open and fans were blowing around a plethora of scents. Jane had a handful of reusable fabric grocery bags slung over her shoulder, though Maura knew they always ended up buying more food than would fit in them.

“Alright, where first?” Jane scanned the room.

“Non-perishables. Do you need bread?”

Jane glanced at her, “I need everything. You saw my fridge.”

Maura hummed and gravitated toward the bakery stand, taking in the scent of the fresh baguettes. The olfactory experience triggered a random memory. “Remember that little _boulangerie_ near our hotel in Paris?”

It took Jane a moment to parse the French, but then she caught on. “With the tarts!”

“ _Me oui_!”

Jane’s eyebrow raised and there was mischief in the look she gave Maura. Then, she grabbed one of the baguettes and faked a lunge at her. “ _En garde_!” At Maura’s amused reaction, Jane waved her baguette. “There’s two things the French do well. Fencing and bread.” She jabbed a second time and Maura armed herself with her own loaf of bread, prepared to parry.

Laughter bubbled up as she watched Jane’s technique. “Hold it like this,” Maura demonstrated, thought she knew it was useless. Jane wasn’t interested in being proper, she was just having fun.

“Why?” Jane asked, “Is it an _epee_ loaf?” She twirled her makeshift weapon in a maneuver that was not at all an effective fencing stroke.

“Hey, Jane, Maura,” a male voice cut into the playful moment. Maura saw Jane’s eyes widen.

“Cameron!” Jane turned to him, dropping the loaf back into the basket. “What are you doing here?”

“I get some of my groceries here, too, you know,” he was saying, “Figured I’d see if you were shopping this morning, too.”

“Hello, Cameron,” Maura greeted him, and he replied in kind, but then her attention was drawn to the owner of the bread stand, who was eyeing them sourly. Maura picked back up the loaf Jane had put away and held it up with the one she already had in hand, “Just these two, please.”

As Maura purchased the bread, she heard Jane and Cameron speaking, mostly about the day’s plans and Jane suggesting Cameron shop for groceries with them--though Maura thought she heard reluctance in Jane’s tone. It was difficult to be certain, however, because when Jane spoke to Cameron, her voice was different than Maura was used to. The pitch changed, she didn’t sound like the Jane Maura was familiar with.

Once the bread was paid for, the three of them began walking further along the farmer’s market. “What’s next?” Jane consulted Maura.

Maura surveyed what was around them. The basic food stuffs were a given, as they always came with the intent to stock Jane’s kitchen. But there were possible peripheral items to explore and she moved toward a booth that sold homemade soap and shampoo. “Did you like that soap we bought last month?”

“The one that smells like pumpkin pie?” Jane shrugged. “I guess. But it makes me hungry in the shower.”

“No one says you have to be committed to food related scents.” Maura browsed a rack of bar soaps, scanning for scent profiles that might appeal to Jane.

“But I like food.”

Cameron picked up a bar and sniffed it. “What about this one? It’s nice.” He held it out to Jane who politely obliged, but Maura could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t like it.

“It’s… pretty?” Jane attempted.

Maura immediately picked up on the floral lilac aroma and felt the need to speak up on behalf of her friend who was clearly playing nice as to not upset Cameron. “She’s not much of a fan of perfumey floral scents. Even getting her to indulge in anything natural is a challenge. If she’s left alone, she’ll reek of chemically produced smells.”

“I just happen to like that shampoo, okay?” Jane was defensive, but her voice was back to her normal tone, the one she used to banter with Maura, the one that sounded like her and not like some kind of performance.

“Ah, fair enough,” Cameron said agreeably, putting back the bar he’d been holding. As he sniffed through a few more, Jane looked relieved.

“How about this one?” Maura asked, picking up a sandalwood scented soap.

Jane nodded as she caught a whiff, “Ooh. Yeah, I like that.”

“Do you need any other toiletry products?” Maura inquired, “Lotion, maybe?”

“Nah, just the soap,” Jane said.

Maura picked up a bottle of lotion in the same scent, “You’re almost out in your bathroom, you should get some.”

Jane shrugged, “I didn’t realize. Okay.”

They were moving on, examining the various produce stands. Maura bought Jane an herbed lettuce mix and some cherry tomatoes without much stress, and they were moving on to their preferred berry salesman to get blueberries for Jane to put in her cereal. As they looked through boxes of blueberries, Cameron was choosing some raspberries. “You should try these,” he was telling Jane, “Sweetest raspberries I’ve ever tasted.”

“Hmm, maybe,” Jane replied noncommittally.

Maura felt the need to clarify again, “Jane doesn’t like fruits with ‘hair’ on them, though I do think the presence of ‘hair’ on raspberries is debatable.”

Jane groaned, “Maura, I’ve _felt_ hair on raspberries. With my tongue. It’s weird.”

“It’s just the pistil of the plant, left over from the female portion of the flower.”

“Well, it feels like hair.”

Cameron peered closely at his box of raspberries, frowning, “Yeah, I guess I could see that. I’ve never noticed.”

“I believe you that those are good,” Jane said to him, “But I’m going to stick to what I know.” She held up her box of blueberries.

Maura didn’t particularly mind that Cameron was tagging along on their shopping trip, but she did detect a palpable difference in the way that it felt. Cameron seemed casual, but Jane appeared much less relaxed to Maura. It made sense, Maura supposed, because this weekend marked an important step in Jane’s relationship with Cameron. Maura also knew that she, too, was less relaxed, but she wasn’t sure if she was merely reacting to Jane’s anxiety. She knew Jane wasn’t typically this on edge around him, and she wondered if the problem was that she and Cameron didn’t seem to mesh well. He was a friendly, though they seemed to keep finding that they had little to talk about, except Jane.

They browsed salad dressings and hot sauces, and Jane bought some jerky from the butcher. Cameron had a tendency to wander into neighboring booths as Jane and Maura lightly squabbled over which vegetables to buy, but as they browsed the wine selection, he examined labels with interest.

“What do you know about this one?” he asked Maura, showing her the bottle he held in his hand.

Maura glanced at it, noting the year and the local vineyard. “Oh, that’s an excellent choice. It pairs well with intense flavors like,” she considered an ideal meal pairing, “pepper steak with balsamic onions. That would be rather delicious, actually.”

Cameron nudged Jane. “How does your mom feel about pepper steak?”

“Why, are you asking her out?” Jane’s light laugh was innocent, but Cameron frowned.

“I thought a bottle of wine might be a nice gift.”

“Oh,” Jane’s tone shifted back to that lighter voice that Maura didn’t particularly like. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Anyway, Angela’s generally more of a beer person,” Maura offered. “They do have craft beer over--”

“It’s okay,” Cameron replied, sliding the bottle back into the display rack. He glanced at his phone. “I actually need to go.”

“Is everything okay?” Jane seemed to find this as sudden as Maura felt it might be.

“Yeah, I just have stuff to do.” Cameron shifted his grip on the canvas bag that held his purchases. “Have you made dinner plans?”

“We have a reservation for a colonial tour in Alexandria this afternoon.” The way Jane spoke about it told Maura this was the first time she’d mentioned it to him.

“I see.”

“I’ll call you?”

“Sure.”

There was an awkward air to the short exchange and Maura busied herself with reading a listing of recommended cheeses to pair with the offered wine selection. When she looked back over at Jane, Cameron was already walking toward the exit. Jane didn’t appear to be upset, however. Instead, she picked up the plastic encased cheese list Maura had been looking over.

“Can we make mac and cheese with any of these?” she asked.

“I’m sure you could make it with all of them,” Maura replied. “But you’d probably prefer the gruyere and fontina alongside the traditional cheddar.”

They chose a wine to match Jane’s pasta menu, which was the planned meal for the following evening, then took their time finishing the rest of the shopping before returning the Jane’s apartment to put the groceries away. By the time they were done, Angela and Ron were knocking at the door. Jane had tried to convince her mother to wait for a pick up at the hotel, but apparently Angela insisted on spending some time in Jane’s home. This translated to Angela moving around the place, nudging photo frames and commenting on how stark things still felt.

“I don’t have a ton of stuff to display, Ma.”

“Maybe we can get one of those old timey portraits done today,” Angela suggested.

“It’s meant to be a functioning early colonial-era village. The first photograph wasn’t taken until 1827.” Maura assumed that they would attempt to avoid anachronisms, given the educational nature of the area.

“Well, maybe they have something anyway. I would love to dress up as a saloon girl!”

Jane glanced at Maura, who closed her mouth, electing not to point out that the ‘saloon girl’ image Angela probably had in mind was a few centuries off from the colonial era they’d be exploring. They indulged Angela on the car ride to Alexandria, who imagined an old-timey picture with Ron and Maura as frontier doctors and Jane as a sheriff, and the fun of it made it seem less relevant that they were talking of different time periods. Once they’d parked, Angela asked, “Won’t Cameron be joining us?”

Jane shrugged, “He had something to do this afternoon. I told him he could try and meet us for dinner, though.”

That was reason enough for Angela, who immediately moved her attention onto the historically accurate buildings that surrounded them. “These houses look smaller than I thought they’d be.”

Living in Boston meant plenty of exposure to centuries-old architecture from the beginning stages of the nation, but this was a replica colonial village, meant to represent early colonial life. Maura was about to explain some of the core reasons why the structures around looked a particular way, but Jane picked up on the intent and elbowed her. “Maybe let the tour guide cover all the basics, this time?”

Maura pouted, but kept quiet about any educational details, opting to browse the brochure Jane handed her. Overall, it was easier to avoid stepping in as the woman who ended up guiding their group proved to be exceptionally knowledgeable. “She’s quite good,” Maura mentioned to Jane.

“Well, maybe that’s because she hand-sewed that…dress...thing and makes her own candles.”

“You can’t know that.”

“It said so on a thing in the gift shop.”

“Once a detective…” Maura teased.

But it seemed that the village actually held Jane’s interest, at least to the point where she wasn’t lagging behind out of boredom. When they approached a blacksmithing demonstration, it was Jane who pushed ahead to get a better view.

There was a woman at the forge, showcasing the various tools and explaining the process as she worked a horseshoe into shape. After a few minutes, she asked for a volunteer and, to Maura’s genuine surprise, Jane was the one shedding her jacket and asking Maura to hold it before she maneuvered away from the small crowd and into the blacksmithing area. However, as soon as Jane began to swing the hammer down, it was obvious that she’d be drawn to something so kinetic, particularly in light of a lack of team sports available to her at the moment. She’d been complaining a week ago that she missed her old adult hockey league and hadn’t been able to find anything that came close to it anywhere in the area.

As Jane struck the metal as guided by the blacksmith, Maura was impressed with her accuracy. Though it was Angela who took it a step further by cheering aloud.

“Way to go, Janie!”

If Jane was embarrassed, she didn’t show it.

In the end, she was allowed to keep the horseshoe. “It’ll make a great paperweight.”

“I think you should display it,” Maura encouraged, taking the piece of metal in her hands to examine it.

“I will. On top of a stack of papers.”

There wasn’t an old timey photo stand like Angela had hoped, but they did take a photo in the village square and Maura immediately sent it to the online photo album where she stored pictures she later wanted to print.

Dinner ended up being just the four of them at a fondue themed restaurant, proving a theory Maura had held for a long time that Jane would likely eat just about anything if it was covered in cheese or chocolate.

By the time they returned to the apartment and Jane pushed her mother and Ron out the door, Maura was ready to unwind with their usual couch-surfing and casual conversation over drinks. When it came time for bed, Maura happily stripped out of her clothes and into the pajamas she never wore at home, but bought for her trips down to see Jane. The day’s activities hadn’t been overbearing, but they were enough to leave her sighing happily as her head hit the pillow. She was well on her way into the first stages of sleep within minutes.

Once she’d entered what was likely the REM cycle, she began to dream, and her mind took her back to the heat and sound of the forge. The air felt heavy and appeared inexplicably opaque, the rhythmic pounding of the hammer felt like her pulse. Through the blurry air she could see the figure of the lady blacksmith as she worked. But instead of the simple dress and bonnet she had worn on the tour, she wore jeans and a tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

The lady blacksmith looked up at her, and abruptly, Maura felt a strong pull of attraction. She _had_ found the lady blacksmith on the tour to be good-looking; she had very striking eyes and appealing lips, and Maura had been drawn to the way she could tell even through the sleeves of her dress that her arms were well-defined. Maura liked nice arms on any gender.

The blacksmith chuckled lowly, a sound that made heat rush over Maura’s body, and then turned back to the anvil. The hammering, which had never really stopped in the background, just quieted, became louder again, and Maura felt her pulse traveling lower in her body, the feeling of attraction quickly turning to a strong arousal. She watched the muscles in the blacksmith’s arms as they worked, letting her eyes roam over the exposed skin of her shoulders, glistening with sweat and powdered with soot. She could see the muscles of her back under the tight tank top as her body twisted.

Maura wanted to touch her, desperately. The air still felt heavy, this time with an erotic charge between them. The blacksmith, clearly sensing it, too, stopped hammering and straightened, then turned back to Maura again. Maura roamed her eyes over her body, from the way her forearm flexed as she held the hammer at her side, to the tank top tight over her abs, though her face was still obscured by the misty quality in the air--not quite smoke and not quite water vapor, but something indistinct. Maura tried to speak, but only a moan came from her parted lips.

It appeared they didn’t need to speak, which was just as well, since the colonial era speech patterns and accents did nothing for her erotically. The blacksmith dropped the hammer, and then was moving toward Maura, and in an impossibly short time, Maura was pressed against a wall, and the blacksmith was kissing her, thigh pressed between Maura’s legs. They were rocking together, mouths pressing desperately, and Maura was stifling whimpers as she was already rapidly approaching orgasm, so intense was every dream sensation.

In a moment, one whimper almost became real, and Maura was abruptly half-awake, the dream images still flashing behind her eyelids. She was on the brink of orgasm, and her hand slid under the hem of her short nightgown, her fingers finding wetness. It only took a few seconds for the dream to begin fading away, but almost as soon as she touched her clit, she was coming, the images sustaining just moments longer, and as her hips began bucking against her hand, the lady blacksmith abruptly pulled back from their kisses, enough so that she could see her face.

It was Jane.


	9. Chapter 9

“Where’s Cameron?”

The question grated on Jane’s nerves, in part because she’d already heard it so many times this weekend, but also because she was wondering the same thing. She hated the times he was late and didn’t call or text. They were incongruous with the normally considerate person he was. “I don’t know, Ma. I gave him the details about brunch last night.”

“Well, hopefully he has time to eat when he gets here,” Angela sounded sour, which made Jane more irritated with Cameron. With Jane’s assurance that Cameron had said he was coming, they’d decided to order, but now that more time had passed, it was beginning to feel weird.

“I’ll text him.”

He hadn’t responded in the few minutes between when Jane sent the text and the arrival of their food. Maura caught her eye as the food arrived, her face twisting in uncertainty. Jane looked away, frustrated at the whole experience.

But the food kickstarted the flow of conversation again, and everyone seemed to want to set aside the awkwardness of Cameron’s absence and soon they were all discussing plans for the last day in DC. After brunch, Angela and Ron wanted to spend the day together celebrating Valentine’s Day, and Jane figured she and Maura and Cameron could see a movie or something before Maura would fly home on her usual Sunday evening flight. She would give Angela and Ron a ride to the airport in the morning for their flight, and a final chance to see them off.

While Maura and Ron playfully squabbled over the bill, Jane was beginning to genuinely worry about Cameron, who had not returned her text. She had excused herself to step outside and call him when she abruptly realized he was standing just outside the restaurant. He noticed her, and smiled, but it lacked its usual warmth, “Hi,” he said.

“I was just about to call you. Is everything okay?” Jane slid her phone back into her pocket and approached him. Something about his demeanor made her spine straighten, and she focused her attention on him.

“I need to talk to you.” He was dressed in a suit, and Jane began to relax, realizing he had probably been called to a case, and that was why he hadn’t been able to attend brunch. She was still a little irritated that he didn’t reply to her text, but she felt satisfied at her conclusion.

“Okay,” she said, “What’s up?”

Cameron dropped his gaze, and when he looked back up, he didn’t meet her eye. “I got called to a case. I fly out in a few hours.” He paused, and Jane sensed he wasn’t finished. There was a prickling on the back of her neck like when she felt like she was about to get a confession out of a perpetrator. So she just nodded, and then he continued, “You know, until this weekend, I really thought we were moving toward something.”

Jane felt her shoulders hunch. “I...thought we were, too,” she replied cautiously, processing what he was saying. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Was it my mother? I swear, I can keep her from visiting a lot if it’s going to be a problem.”

Cameron’s face twitched into a rueful grin. “Of course not, your mom’s great. I adored her, and Ron’s a good man.” There was just enough of a pause that hung between them to lull Jane into wondering what the problem was, which allowed his next statement to genuinely catch her off-guard. “Jane, it was you.”

Jane was well-practiced at masking her shock, but she could tell that Cameron read her expression by the way his eyes dropped again. She wasn’t sure what to say, but he was speaking again before long.

“I thought this weekend was supposed to be about us growing closer, but all you’ve done is put up walls and push me away. I’m not sure you want the same kind of relationship I do, or maybe you just don’t want it with me. But I don’t think I can be with you if you won’t let me in.” His mouth twisted, and his shoulders jerked in a small shrug. “I should be back by Friday. If you want to try and make this work, call me.”

Jane blinked and tried to come up with a response, but her mother’s voice rang out behind her. “Cameron! You missed brunch, is everything alright?”

He faced her and smiled, big and genuine. “I’m so sorry, Angela, but I got called to a case. I just came to say goodbye to Jane, but I’ve really got to go. It was great to see you guys again,” he addressed Jane’s three companions, then turned back to Jane one more time, his smile faltering a little. “Bye, Jane,” he finally said, then strode away.

As Jane turned back to her family, she tried to focus on Angela hugging her goodbye as she gushed about all the fun things she and Ron were going to do that day. They parted ways after Jane helped send Angela and Ron off in the right direction, and she and Maura headed back toward Jane’s rental car. As they walked, Maura asked, “What shall we do today?”

“Um...would you mind if we just hung out at my place?”

“Not at all,” Maura replied, “But now I’m certain something’s bothering you. Is everything okay?”

Jane shrugged as she unlocked the car. “I think I just got dumped.”

* * *

In spite of Jane’s request that they stay in for the rest of the day, she really didn’t seem _that_ upset by her break-up. She wasn’t cheerful, to be sure, but she didn’t appear to be having strong emotions at all.

It confused Maura, a little, because this time, she felt like she knew how to better handle helping Jane through a break-up. Jane had set an example in helping Maura get over Jack, and also, Maura felt much less selfish relief in Jane’ break-up with Cameron than she had when Jane had decided not to marry Casey.

But to her surprise, Jane didn’t appear to want to talk about it. Maura had pressed, gently, a few times on the drive back to Jane’s apartment, but Jane hadn’t responded with much beyond shrugs, grunts, and a few single sentences. “He didn’t think we wanted the same things out of a relationship,” was the most Maura was able to get out of Jane, who then lapsed into a grumpy silence.

At the apartment, Maura brewed some fresh coffee and sat with Jane on the couch, while Jane flipped through the television like it were a normal afternoon. “I think I should stay another night,” Maura said as she handed Jane her coffee.

Jane glanced at her, uncertain, “Maura, you don’t have to do that.”

Maura sat taller, “I want to,” she replied firmly, “Come on, you’re my best friend. I want to be here for you.”

Jane grinned, though it was a bit weak. “I’m fine,” she insisted, “Or I will be, anyway. Besides, you already bought your ticket.”

“Oh, I can change my flight to tomorrow morning. It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll just find a flight close to the same time as Angela and Ron, if theirs is booked.”

“Really?” Jane asked, and Maura recognized eagerness and relief in her tone.

“Absolutely,” Maura assured her. It would be barely an inconvenience to change her flight, and no financial burden.

“That would be...really great. Thanks, Maura.” Jane set her coffee cup down on the table and stood up, moving toward her room. “Listen, if I get to hang out with you for another night...let me deal with my day, alright? I’m going to work out.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to...talk about it?”

“Nah,” Jane said, “I’ll handle this my way.”

While Jane put on workout clothes in the bedroom, Maura got in touch with her airline and changed her flight. Before long, Jane came out in a sports bra and shorts and began pulling on gloves, shoving earbuds in her ears, and placed herself in front of the man-shaped punching bag in the corner of her living room. Jane’s setup was as close as it could be to her old apartment in Boston, before it had burned down. While Jane began a series of punches, Maura checked in with Kent at BPD and with Hope, letting them both know she was coming back later than expected and to contact her if they needed anything.

But after her airline business was taken care of, Maura wasn’t entirely sure what to do. She tried to look over something she was writing, but the rhythmic pounding of Jane’s punches on the bag made her mind wander.

She hadn’t given herself much time to consider her dream the previous night. Even though the shock of realizing she had been dreaming (and subsequently orgasming) about Jane had jolted her awake, she hadn’t stayed there. Her hand had stopped moving for a split second but she was already climaxing, and she rode out the rest of her orgasm before she allowed herself to think much more.

But even then, she simply comforted herself with a brief moment of reassurance before she fell back to sleep. Dreams were weird, and rarely literal. Her dream was likely a mishmash of so many things about her weekend with her best friend, and some kind of transference had occurred in Maura’s sleeping brain that had attached Jane’s face to the attractive blacksmithing woman. It wasn’t a stretch. Jane had stepped up to help her, after all. Perhaps the fact that she was sleeping in Jane’s bed also contributed to her presence in Maura’s dream.

But now, sitting in Jane’s living room as she pounded out her feelings on her break-up with Cameron, Maura had to admit that her dream may have meant something.

Maura had never denied, even to herself, that she found Jane attractive. All of the Rizzoli siblings had fantastic genetics, something that hadn’t been lost on Maura over the years she’d known the family. But it was Jane who’d crept into her dreamscape and it was Jane who, when they’d first met, hda driven Maura to at least momentarily consider a possible sexual connection. Yet their friendship grew so quickly and easily that it was only a fleeting thought. Anyway, Jane was straight and Maura’s early experiences with women had left the lasting impression that it was best to avoid falling for someone who was incapable of emotional reciprocation.

However, someone else’s sexual orientation didn’t stop them from being aesthetically pleasing and, while Maura knew it was most likely due to her considering any reasoning for the previous night’s dream, her gaze kept moving away from the open document on her iPad and toward Jane’s jabs and punches.

Jane, at least when she was comfortable, always had a very unselfconscious way of moving that drew attention, but Maura was far more focused, specifically on the ways various parts of Jane’s anatomy moved as she worked out. Her arms and shoulders were well-defined, and Maura loved watching them flex and coil as Jane moved. In fact, though, Jane was displaying quite a lot of skin, and Maura let her focus settle on the lines of muscle in Jane’s back and her lean, long legs.

Maura allowed her gaze to caress over Jane’s skin. It was foolish to deny attraction, because it would inevitably surface, and it was surfacing now, as Maura watched a drop of sweat slowly slide down the dip of Jane’s spine. The rhythm of her exercise was filling Maura’s head, a steady beat like the sound of the blacksmith’s hammer, like the pounding of Maura’s heart, like the pulse flowing through her circulatory system, settling further and further down her body.

Moments later, Maura regained her sense of decorum and jerked her gaze from its contemplation of the contours of Jane’s posterior under her exercise shorts. Her cheeks burned as she realized how grateful she was that Jane hadn’t noticed her leering. Her heart still hammering wildly, Maura stood and approached Jane, coming from the side so she wouldn’t startle her. Jane saw her in her periphery and pivoted away from the bag to face her better, one hand reaching to pull out an earbud as she grunted out a, “Yeah?”

“I’m going to walk down to the deli to get a few things for dinner. Before they close.”

“Okay. Take my keys and lock up behind you,” she jerked her chin in the general direction of her keys, but Maura already knew where they were. Though Jane’s tone didn’t reveal much, something about her demeanor told Maura that she appreciated the opportunity to have the apartment to herself for a little while.

“Thank you,” she replied, and as Jane nodded and turned her attention back to the bag, Maura allowed her gaze to drop, just briefly, for a clear look at Jane’s abs as she twisted into a punch.

Maura hurried out of the apartment, buttoning her coat as she descended the stairs into the lobby, eager for some fresh air to clear her head. She could’ve easily made dinner with anything they’d purchased at the farmer’s market the day before, but during her visits she’d quickly come to like this specific shop that was in walking distance from Jane’s.

Once on the street, she took her time, slowing to a stroll. It was still a bit warm for winter weather, but it was a calm afternoon, the coolness against her cheeks worked against the flush that had likely spread across them while she was watching Jane. Now that she was away from the source of stimulation, her mind worked to rationalize her experience. While Maura was never one to actively practice intentional celibacy, it had been awhile since she’d physically engaged in sexual activity with another person. That was part of the reason why she was open to Angela setting her up on dates. She still enjoyed masturbation on a regular basis, but she also found physical fulfillment in sexual partners. Perhaps her writing was playing into this, as well. Developing erotic scenarios for fictional individuals certainly must have some kind of impact on her libido.

As much as Jane working out was affecting Maura’s arousal pattern, the cool air on her face helped her remember that Jane was not an appropriate target. Maura decided that when she got back to Boston, she would make more of an effort to find a female lover, to work off some of this pent-up sexual energy. While Maura knew it wasn’t necessarily wrong to be attracted to Jane, it was also inconvenient. And given that Jane had been nothing but supportive--though occasionally awkwardly so--since Maura had officially come out to her, Maura didn’t want to do anything that might make Jane feel uncomfortable, and that included any possibility of revealing her attraction.

Still, though, maybe accidentally masturbating in her best friend’s bed this weekend might inspire her in spite of Maura’s secret humiliation over it. As she walked, she realized she was already formulating a Monday writing exercise in her brain featuring a sexy scene in a blacksmith’s forge.

Maura dawdled a little in the shop before heading back to Jane’s apartment with wine, meat and cheese, scripting in her head the erotic scene she would write tomorrow night when she got home. By the time she was climbing the stairs in Jane’s building, she felt confident that she had successfully compartmentalized her attraction. As she unlocked Jane’s door, she listened for the sounds of Jane’s strikes on the punching bag, but the air was fairly quiet, until she heard Jane speak, “Maura? You back?” Her voice had a raspy quality, perhaps from exertion.

“Yes, it’s me,” Maura replied, locking the door behind her and moving enough down the short hallway that she was able to see Jane, who was standing at her kitchen island, a towel slung over her shoulder, her right hand holding a glass of water, and her left palm-up soaking in a bowl full of ice. “Are you alright?”

Jane took a gulp of water. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.” Beads of sweat still clung to the wisps of loose hair around her face, her chest gleamed with moisture.

“Then why is your hand in an ice bath?” Maura put her grocery bag down on the counter and circled around to Jane’s hand. “Let me see it.”

“Maura, it’s fine,” Jane insisted, “I went a little hard and it’s just bruised.”

“I’d prefer to let a doctor determine that. And I’m a doctor.”

Jane looked at her, eyes softening in amusement, then lifted her hand from the ice with minimal reluctance.

Maura examined the hand, frigid in her own. Her skin was discolored from the cold, but her knuckles still stood out, purplish, although there was nothing alarming about their appearance. She asked Jane to flex her fingers and she did so, then Maura gently passed her hand back. “It’s just a bruise.”

Jane gave her an incredulous grin, “I know that, _doctor_.” She dipped the hand back into the bowl. Maura was satisfied. Jane could generally take care of herself, but Maura knew it didn’t hurt to keep an eye on her.

* * *

Jane was selfishly delighted that Maura was staying for an extra night. Though ultimately it was only a few extra hours, many of which they’d likely spend asleep, she always wanted more time with Maura, no matter what form it took.

The thing was, though, that Jane was fine, about the break-up, anyway. She was frustrated, and a little confused, but she wasn’t distraught, wasn’t so broken up about it that she would’ve begged Maura to stay. Honestly, working out had helped with a lot of her frustration. Once Maura had left to pick up dinner, Jane had thrown herself into the punching bag, until her hands were sore and she was gasping for air, but she felt calmer. She felt better.

She was able to wrap her head around Cameron putting their relationship in her hands. Technically, they hadn’t broke up yet, but Jane knew that after what Cameron had said, there was no way she was calling him on Friday. And she felt he had to know her well enough not to expect that call, so, effectively, they had broken up, and Jane was prepared to let the relationship go. If Cameron couldn’t see that she was just trying to maintain some healthy boundaries, well, maybe they weren’t such a good match, after all.

After a post-workout shower, Jane had put on pajamas, figuring she didn’t have anything else she needed to do that day, and she and Maura eventually made their way into Jane’s bedroom that evening, with wine and cheese and _Weird Science_ queueing up on Jane’s laptop on the bed. The slumber party atmosphere felt natural given the emotional course of the day and Maura’s impromptu additional overnight stay.

“I don’t understand how you haven’t seen this movie.”

“You’re well aware that we had very different childhood experiences.”

“Yeah, but it’s about _science_.”

“I doubt this film is founded in any true scientific theory.”

“ _What?_ ” Jane clutched her chest. “You mean two teen boys creating a sexy woman from a computer isn’t something you studied medical school?”

Maura chuckled, which Jane always took as a victory. “Do you have something I could sleep in? My nightgown is already packed with my other dirty laundry and I’d prefer to wear something clean.”

“Oh, sure,” Jane swung her long legs over the side of the bed and was at her dresser in two strides. She fished out a white tank top and a pair of novelty FBI boxer shorts, then tossed them to Maura. Maura regarded them curiously for a moment, but then disappeared into the bathroom with them, while Jane refilled their wine glasses and restocked the tray of snacks they were sharing. Maura appeared to enjoy the novelty of eating in the bedroom, something typically forbidden at her own house. Jane had tried to point out to Maura that she could change the rules in _her own house_ to allow food in the bedroom, but it was apparently a matter of decorum and decency, and Maura maintained the ban.

When Maura emerged, Jane couldn’t help chuckling a little, because Maura rarely had reason to borrow clothes from Jane, and Jane wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her friend in a tank top and boxers. The image was strange. Maura looked concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just...” Jane scanned her. The boxer shorts appeared roomy and comfortable, even accounting for the curve of Maura’s hips, but the tank top stretched tight across Maura’s ample chest. Jane felt another laugh rising, “Wow, I’m not sure that tank top will fit me right after it gets stretched out by your giant rack.”

Maura looked down at herself uncertainly, “Is it that bad?”

“No,” Jane laughed, “ _You_ look fine. It’s just my shirt that’ll never be the same.” She grinned, “I’ll just set it aside for you to wear when you visit. It’s no big deal.” She mentally traced the contours of Maura’s breasts in the tank top, trying to picture her own filling the space. There was no way.

There was a hum from Maura as she ran the hem of the shirt between her fingertips. “How old is this, anyway?”

“I dunno. A couple years?” But as Jane thought about it, she couldn’t even remember when she last bought tank tops. She hated clothes shopping and, whenever she could, she did it online. “Why? Is it _so last season_?” Jane teased.

“It’s coming apart.”

“It is not.”

“Then you have a _Tineola bisselliella_ problem.” Maura showed Jane a small hole that was forming toward the bottom of the garment.

“I do not!” Jane insisted. “ Wait. What is that? Is that a disease?”

“Allegorically, I suppose.” Jane stared, waiting for more information. Finally, Maura simply said, “Moths.”

“I don’t have moths. And that dresser is cedar!” Jane wasn’t one to spend frivolously on fashion, but she’d invested in decent bedroom furniture when she’d gotten the pay bump that came with working at the Academy.

Maura shrugged, “Well, then maybe it’s just a little old.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Jane insisted, “It’s not like I wear these to teach in. A few holes aren’t a big deal in a sleep shirt.”

Maura hummed neutrally and made her way back to her side of the bed. Jane drew the laptop closer to them, “Alright, you ready?”

“Sure,” Maura replied, though she had her phone in her hand.

Jane side-eyed her. When Maura didn’t react, Jane tilted her head enough to see what Maura was working on. “Are you _shopping_?”

“Just browsing pajamas. What size do you wear?”

Jane groaned, “Maura, I’m not letting you buy me pajamas. I have plenty.”

“Right now you do, but those holes will only grow.”

“Maura,” Jane said firmly, reaching over and grabbing the cell phone. “We’re watching a movie.”

Maura sighed. “I’ll just find you something back in Boston,” she conceded.

There was a pang of disappointment, as Jane remembered that Maura would be leaving the next morning. The extra-long weekend together had spoiled Jane a little, and, as always, she’d grown comfortable having Maura around. And now, Maura would be leaving, she and Cameron would no longer be spending time together, and even Angela and Ron would be gone, and Jane didn’t know when she might see her mother again. Jane felt a sinking feeling of loneliness settle in the pit of her stomach. She guessed she was in for a dreary week.

All the more reason to enjoy her evening with Maura. Jane tapped the computer’s touchpad to start the movie. It had been a while since she’d seen it and, like most films from her youth, it was fairly ridiculous, but it made her laugh and Maura seemed to be entertained by it. At least, she did after Jane asked her to stop commenting on the scientific inaccuracies. Somewhere during the second half of the movie, Jane’s eyes began to grow heavy, probably because of the emotionally charged day and the half a bottle of wine she’d consumed that evening. She let them close, still listening to the dialogue coming from the laptop speakers. There was a chuckle from Maura and Jane’s eyes opened, glancing from the screen to her friend. Maura was on her side, facing Jane, her gaze focused on the computer.

Because of the shift in position and the angle of Jane’s perspective, it was even more apparent that Maura’s chest strained against the material of the tank top. Actually, it was almost as if the shirt was coming apart. Maybe Maura was right, maybe it was time to invest in new pajamas. Jane wanted to pull her eyes back toward the screen, but she couldn’t stop staring at the thin fabric as it stretched every time Maura took a breath. Expand, contract. Expand, contract. Expand…wait. Jane blinked, because was starting to look like Maura’s boobs were getting larger. That couldn’t be possible. But the cotton material began to give way and there was the sound of tearing as holes appeared, the shirt shredding into strips, with one convenient stripe of white that still covered Maura’s nipples.

Yet Maura was still watching the movie, not really reacting to what was happening.

“Uh, Maura…” Jane didn’t know what to do. Was this a medical emergency?

And then the breasts pushed forward, nudging the corner of the laptop and quickly overtaking the space between the two women. They advanced so rapidly that Jane’s immediate reaction was to roll away, but there wasn’t that much room on her side of the bed and suddenly she fell over this edge.

With a jerk, Jane woke up. The laptop was where it originally sat, the credits rolling across the screen. She risked a glance to the side and there was Maura, eyes closed, her chest, her regular-sized chest, rising and falling steadily. Jane sat up and clicked the computer shut. Her movements caused Maura to stir.

“Hmm? Oh, is it over?”

“Yeah, I guess we both dozed off.”

Maura nodded. “I’ll go make up the couch. You should have your bed tonight.”

“Don’t be stupid, just stay here. I’ll go out there,” she finished, though her tone was listless. She tried to generate the momentum to get out of bed.

“You work tomorrow,” Maura argued sleepily.

“You’re my _guest_ ,” Jane argued back, stashing her laptop on the bedside table and pulling at her covers. “There’s no law that says we can’t share the bed. Besides, might be kinda nice to continue the slumber party,” she admitted, “I’ve had a crazy weekend.” Jane wasn’t much of a cuddler, but she felt like she would sleep better knowing Maura was nearby.

“True,” Maura conceded, “And physical contact, inevitable in this situation, can trigger the release of oxytocin, which helps combat stress.”

“Oxycontin?” Jane asked, purposely using the wrong word, “Wouldn’t it be easier to just write me a prescription?” she joked.

“Funny,” Maura said dryly, “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

Jane sighed, “Yeah. Good call.” She hated accidentally falling asleep before brushing her teeth, but honestly, she was usually up enough times in the night to rectify it. So it wasn’t all that jarring to brush her own teeth after Maura was finished, and she headed back to the bed still feeling the hum of drowsiness.

Maura was leaning back on her pillows, still half-sitting up, but her eyes were closed. She blinked them open as Jane lifted the sheets on her side and slid in next to Maura, who moved toward the edge to give Jane room, though it was quickly apparent that lying side by side wouldn’t work well.

“I’ll lay this way,” Jane turned and faced away from Maura.

“Sleeping on one’s left side aids digestion,” Maura commented as she began to shift.

“Mostly I just hope it’ll make me less likely to take up the whole bed,” Jane murmured.

Maura had turned, facing the same way. “We’ll have to spoon,” she said, her voice night soft, “Because this way the parabolic curves of our bodies will be parallel instead of perpendicular.”

Jane laughed quietly, too tired to try to make sense of Maura’s geometry talk. “Good night, Maura.”

“Night, Jane,” was the subdued reply. Jane could feel the heat of Maura’s body, close but not touching hers. She shifted, settling into a comfortable position, and behind her, she could hear and feel Maura doing the same. She felt Maura’s arm press into her back, between her shoulders, not uncomfortably, but apparently, Maura disagreed, because she withdrew it shortly after. Some more rustling, and then Maura’s hand rested gently on Jane’s side, by her hip, the touch light and warm. Jane curled her left arm over her stomach to rest her own hand on Maura’s, knowing Maura would understand Jane’s expression of gratitude.

* * *

Maura wasn’t entirely sure that she would sleep well in bed with Jane. It wasn’t that this was new, because they’d shared beds before, but after the day Maura’d had, the experience seemed...fraught. When they were finally curled up, barely spooning, Maura was sure it would take forever to fall asleep, was sure her heart would pound through the night.

But she was, fortuitously, wrong, and Maura slept well.

She woke up first, as the sun started peeking around the curtains of Jane’s room. She and Jane were still spooning, and though Jane hadn’t managed to take up the whole bed in her sleep, she was pressed closer to Maura. Maura’s hand that she’d rested on Jane’s hip--because there was no other comfortable place to put it--was now resting against her stomach.

Carefully easing away from Jane and extracting herself from the bed, Maura shivered a little against the morning air. The weekend’s warm weather seemed to be beginning to abate. Jane didn’t appear to wake up, but she shifted, her body moving to begin to take up more of the bed.

Maura headed out into the apartment’s common room and wrapped Jane’s Red Sox throw around her body. Jane’s alarm would likely go off in the next fifteen minutes or so, and Maura began to heat water for coffee and peered into Jane’s fridge to figure out what to make for breakfast.

By the time Jane groggily emerged from the bedroom, Maura had prepared spinach, egg and turkey bacon wraps and French press coffee. Jane’s expression brightened almost immediately, and she grinned at Maura, “This is why I really wanted you to stay an extra night,” she teased, stifling a yawn. “One last home-cooked meal before two weeks of microwaving leftovers.”

Maura poured her a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her, then followed with her plate of breakfast and a fork. “You know I’m always happy to provide you with a nutritious meal.”

Jane looked briefly concerned and sniffed her food, seemed intrigued, and took a bite. “S’not bad,” she said after swallowing.

Maura, too, found comfort in these rituals of their friendship, and was pleased to have one more opportunity to make food for Jane. But they didn’t have time to linger over breakfast, as Jane had to get ready for work and then take everyone to the airport. Maura quickly showered and dressed while Jane ate, leaving the borrowed pajamas folded neatly at the foot of Jane’s unmade bed. By the time Jane was out of the shower and pulling on her work suit, Maura had everything packed and placed by the door.

Seeing Jane in one of her suits was still a common enough occurrence. She often picked Maura up from the airport right after work, but looking at her now, rushing to grab everything she needed for the day, gave Maura a nostalgic pang. She was so entirely lost in the moment that she almost reminded Jane to remember her gun and holster.

“You ready?” Jane asked, running a hand through her nearly dry mass of curls.

“I am,” Maura replied, collecting her belongings. She felt Jane’s hand on the small of her back, the light but firm pressure ushering her out the door.

Despite any grumbling from Jane about whether or not she’d need to prod her mother to be ready on time, Angela and Ron were waiting in the lobby when Jane pulled up to the hotel. The bags were loaded into the trunk and the casual conversation Maura and Jane had been sharing on the drive over from the apartment was now overtaken by Angela’s surprise that Maura was still in town.

“I thought you left last night,” she commented.

Maura glanced at Jane, whose stoic expression didn’t change, and then addressed Angela, “Well, we were having such a good time, I decided I might as well stay one more night and then fly back with you guys in the morning,” she smiled. It wasn’t really a lie, but it still felt strange to say. For her part, Jane merely grunted in agreement.

“Well, I’m glad you’re traveling with us,” Angela remarked, “What did you girls do yesterday?”

Maura looked to Jane again, who finally spoke, “Not much. Just hung out at my place,” she replied, “Did you guys have a good time in the city yesterday?”

“Oh, yes,” Angela gushed, “We had a terrific time.” And at that, Angela’s questions were over. Maura saw Jane visibly relax as they listened to Angela and Ron describe their adventures in DC the day before. Jane obviously didn’t want to discuss her breakup yet, which was understandable, as she was about to go to work. Saying goodbye to her family was probably emotional enough for one morning for Jane.

The morning had been so busy that Maura hadn’t taken stock of her own emotions yet, and as they neared Dulles, she remembered why she didn’t like saying goodbye at the airport. Even if she was going to be back in two weeks, goodbyes were always the hardest. Maybe it would be easier with Angela around, because she was sure to crush Jane in a hug and say something motherly that would cause Jane to cross her eyes and then they could all laugh about it.

And that’s what did happen, at the curb, after Jane unloaded the luggage and everyone exited it car. But after that, Maura still found herself throwing her arms around Jane and holding her in a long hug, not wanting anyone to see her sadness because it felt silly and impractical. She was an adult woman saying goodbye to her friend, a friend she’d see again, soon enough. But Jane’s arms were warm and tight around her and there was a scratchy, “text me when you get home,” in her ear that just made the embrace linger. This was getting ridiculous. Maybe the extra night was too much, maybe they needed better boundaries. Maybe she’d work it out later, once she was at home, away from Jane and the faux-floral chemical scent of her shampoo.

“I sure could use a cup of coffee,” Angela said.

Maura took the cue and finally released her hold on Jane. “There’s a Starbucks once we get through security,” she told Angela, trying to keep her voice normal, as the three of them turned and began walking into the airport, leaving Jane in her work suit standing on the curb next to her car. Unable to help it, Maura looked over her shoulder to offer a final wave. Jane was standing next to her car door, and caught Maura’s eye, waving back.

Angela was speaking again, “I really am glad you’re traveling with us. You know all the secrets to comfortable air travel,” she was saying, and Maura forced herself to focus on her words and to not think about Jane. “I’m glad you told me to order the Bloody Mary mix on the flight out, it was so good.”

“Doesn’t it taste better at a higher altitude?” Maura asked, “There was a study about it. Cabin pressure and humidity affect our taste receptors and this causes us to perceive the flavor as more palatable.” Talking about science was always a good distraction, especially since Maura couldn’t seem to find the science for why it was so hard to say goodbye to Jane. It didn’t make any sense, and she didn’t like that she couldn’t rationalize her feelings.

Ultimately, flying home with Angela and Ron was a good decision, because Angela’s questions and comments kept Maura smiling and prevented brooding as they traveled. By the time they made it back to the home in Boston, Maura was a bit tired, but not as despondent as she might have been. She texted Jane as soon as she put her purse down on her front desk. Given the time, Jane was most likely teaching her class, so she didn’t expect an immediate reply. But, within a minute, a notification popped up on her screen.

**I hope my mother didn’t talk your ear off on the flight.**

**It was fine. And I do live with her, you know. Well, in a way.**

**I don’t know how you do it.**

**Aren’t you supposed to be lecturing?**

**They’re taking a quiz about search procedures.**

The conversation continued with a few more exchanges until Jane had to return her attention to her students. By then, Maura was upstairs, unpacking her bags and sorting the dirty laundry.

The remainder of her Monday was standard, putting in a few hours at BPD before her usual writing time, leaving her evening open to work on her erotic fiction, but the weekend’s events and the shift in schedule made it difficult to find focus. Still, Maura sat for an hour, sipping wine and forcing herself to achieve the minimum word count goal she’d decided upon. Eventually, she had a decent scene, one that centered around a female blacksmith, because she needed to purge the confusing feelings had surfaced during her trip. The problem was, while channeling that energy into a narrative had been productive, she was left wanting contact. In short, she was particularly aroused and she knew it was unhealthy to keep directing any of that energy toward Jane.

It was still early enough to go out somewhere, even just to get out of the house and around other people. Her first instinct was to head for The Dirty Robber, but once she was in her car, she strongly considered what she wanted to accomplish in going out.

She navigated to a different part of town, parked her car, checked her make-up in the flip down vanity mirror of the Prius, and walked, with purpose, into Merch.


	10. Chapter 10

The bar was different than Maura remembered, which wasn’t surprising, given that it had been several years. Its layout and decor had changed, and some of the furnishings had been upgraded. But the bar counter itself was still in the same location, and Maura headed to take a seat there, noting as she moved deeper into the bar that she detected an aroma of beans and spices.

As it was a Monday night, Maura hadn’t exactly expected the bar to be crowded. But she was pleasantly surprised to see that a decent number of tables and booths were occupied. There weren’t many people sitting at the counter, and as Maura took stock of the room, she got the impression that many of these were groups of friends who probably regularly met here, or couples. She wondered if this might not be the best night to try to meet someone.

Of course, that didn’t mean that connecting with someone was impossible, and Maura took her seat, trying to feel like she belonged there, too.

The bartender approached her after she settled into her seat, greeting, “How’s it going tonight?” and giving a quick once over, though it didn’t feel like a leer, it felt like an assessment. It was a different bartender, not the woman who’d conspired to murder someone in the case Maura had worked. She was young, cute, a little androgynous.

“Fine, thank you,” Maura replied, “I hope it’s been a good night for you?”

The bartender shrugged, “It’s Chili Night. Actually, it’s kinda slow for Chili Night.”

Once Maura realized the bartender hadn’t offered poorly dictated commentary on the weather, she placed the scent in the air. “Ah. I...haven’t been here in quite some time, I’m afraid,” she replied apologetically.

“It happens. We had to give in to some customer requests to keep this place open on the slower nights. Would you like a drink?”

“Do you have a wine list?”

The bartender quirked an eyebrow, then pulled out a small single fold menu. It was a moderate list, though heavy on dessert wines. They had a Sauvignon blanc that Maura liked, though, so she ordered one. “So when’s the last time you’ve been by to see us?” the bartender asked as she returned with a bottle and a chilled glass.

Maura chuckled, “You might not believe me, but I was last here for a police investigation several years ago.”

The bartender glanced up from opening the bottle, pausing as she did so. “Oh man. For that murder, right?” She shook her head, “Crazy story. Almost didn’t believe it til Google found a newspaper article. Well, new management since that incident, obviously. And, different bartenders,” she grinned.

“Naturally,” Maura watched as the bartender poured some wine for Maura to taste. Maura swirled, sniffed, sipped and assessed, ultimately swallowing and nodding her approval.

“So, uh,” the bartender looked a bit hesitant as she poured Maura’s glass of wine, “Are you here for a case now? Or, I mean...are you allowed to tell me? Don’t tell me if you can’t.”

Maura laughed, “No, tonight I am here for personal reasons. When I was here before, I was undercover as a cocktail waitress.”

“Oh, I see. How was that?” She handed Maura her wine.

“A little bit stressful. It was difficult at times to focus on the evidence collection I was responsible for with women at all tables constantly trying to get my attention.”

“I’ll bet,” the bartender smirked, and at that, one of the servers came behind the bar to put in an order with the bartender, who excused herself to make the drinks. Maura sipped her wine, surveying the bar as well as she could from her vantage point. She was beginning to wonder if she should catch up on some of her reading when a woman approached and leaned on the bar next to her, trying to get the bartender’s attention. The bartender approached, half-made cocktail in hand.

“I just want to make sure those drinks you’re making for my table go on my tab,” the woman said quietly.

“Sure, no problem,” the bartender replied easily.

“And, put her drink on my tab, too,” the woman added, winking at Maura.

“Oh, that’s really--” Maura’s first instinct was to refuse the offer, as she was certainly capable of paying for her own drinks, but then she interpreted the gesture as the opening it was intended to be. “--very generous, thank you,” she finished. The woman was probably a little bit older than Maura, though she looked to be in good health. She was reasonably attractive, too, in a way that reminded Maura of a college professor. On first assessment, she seemed like an appropriate target for Maura’s desire for intimacy.

“You’re welcome,” the woman replied, offering her hand tentatively, “I’m Sherry, by the way.”

“Maura,” Maura replied, accepting her hand, but it was less of a handshake, and more of a gentle, slow, hand hold.

“Well, Maura, I was just on my way to the ladies room, but when I come back, I’d love to get to know you better.”

“Won’t your friends mind you disappearing?”

“Not if I buy them a round,” Sherry raised her eyebrows and smirked, then slipped off her barstool. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll be here.” Maura watched Sherry stride away and past the dance floor. While she wasn’t so desperate as to leave with the first person who expressed interest, it was exciting to have someone so readily pay attention to her. She took a moment to check her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, just to ensure she was looking her best. As she waited, she replied to a text from Kent, asking about a small detail in an open case. After answering his question, she sipped her wine and, eventually, the glass was empty and there was no sign of Sherry.

“Did you want another?” asked the bartender.

“Yes,” Maura nodded, “but please put all my drinks on my tab. I don’t think she’s coming back.”

The bartender cleared the glass and replaced it with a new one, “Her loss.”

Maura smiled in appreciation. Another message popped up on her screen, still more questions about the case. At least she had something to do as she sat at the bar. As she set the phone down, Maura considered going home. But just as she entertained the thought, another woman caught her eye as she approached the bar.

“May I?” asked the woman. She moved with a familiar poise and grace that Maura recognized from the etiquette classes she’d taken in boarding school.

“Please,” Maura indicated the open seat next to her.

“I think I may have seen you at the Tribute to Basquiat exhibit last month.” The woman offered a handshake and this one, unlike the exchange with Sherry, was more friendly than it was intimate. “I’m Gabriela.”

“Maura,” was the reply. “And that was an incredible show. Are you an artist?”

“Please,” Gabriela laughed, “I can barely doodle. You?”

“I enjoy dabbling now and then for therapeutic reasons, but my mother is the professional in the family.”

“Really? Anyone I would recognize?”

“Possibly. She had an installation at the Loren St. Claire a few years ago. Constance Isles?”

Gabriela sipped her cocktail, eyes lightly squinted in recollection. And then, recognition. “With the water bottles?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

The conversation was easy as they continued to chat about art. As much as Maura enjoyed being the authority when she and Jane attended galleries, it was nice to have someone who understood the difference between cubism and constructivism. There was an eventual lull in the conversation and Gabriela politely excused herself to the restroom. While she was away, Maura decided she was pleased that Sherry hadn’t come back because she was having a lovely time talking to Gabriela. But when she returned from the restroom, Gabriela asked to close out her tab.

As she quickly signed her credit card slip, she gave Maura a soft but impersonal smile. “I’m so sorry, but I actually have to head home. It was, uh, nice meeting you.”

Slightly shellshocked, Maura couldn’t do much more than watch Gabriela leave. She considered texting Jane, but she also wanted to adhere to her personal boundaries. Besides, Jane had mentioned in a message earlier in the day that she’d made plans to go out for beers with some co-workers and Maura didn’t want to interfere if Jane was making progress with new friends. She tried to imagine what Jane would speculate about the incident. Perhaps the woman had looked up Maura’s mother online, and through that, found out the truth about Maura’s paternity?

“This one’s on me,” the bartender poured a fresh glass of wine and slid it in front of Maura before taking the order slip from a cocktail server who had just stepped up to the bar.

“Are you planning on abandoning me, too?” Maura asked, eyebrow raised.

The bartender shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with either of them.”

“Are your friends giving you a hard time?” asked the server.

Maura leaned forward a bit. “I’m sorry, my friends?”

“The ones at the back table.” The server pointed toward a booth in the corner, near the restrooms, where Alexandra, the BPD firearms instructor, sat with her wife, Julie, and what looked to be a couple of their friends. “They said something about keeping an eye on you.”

“Oh, did they?” It didn’t make any sense. Why would they interfere in Maura’s personal life? She and Alexandra were friendly enough at the precinct, occasionally running into each other in the mornings at Boston Joe’s while picking up coffee, but they weren’t particularly close.

She considered approaching the table, but Alexandra had caught her gaze and was up on her feet and walking toward the bar. “I guess you figured us out,” she said, with a light laugh.

“Not entirely,” said Maura.

“Well, we saw you come in and figured you were looking to get out of the house. Julie wanted to ask you over to the table, but then that woman moved right in on you.”

“She did.”

“And the second one seemed nice enough, which was why we didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about you.”

“Which would be…?”

“Well, really it’s that Jane’s so...protective, I guess?”

“She is generally concerned with my safety, yes.”

Alexandra laughed, and something in her demeanor told Maura that she was quite tipsy. “Exactly. We get it, though. And we know you’re unfailingly polite, so we felt it best to warn those women that you were already taken, and that your girlfriend is tough, fearless and a hell of a good shot.” She held up her phone, and there was a picture of Jane, back when she was at BPD, holding up her gun at the firing range.

“My…” Maura trailed off as she stared at the picture of Jane and tried to figure out how to even respond. She was driven to tell the truth in general, but she hesitated, because there was a spark of pleasure in the idea that Alexandra and Julie thought that she and Jane were in a romantic relationship and a selfish part of her wanted to keep that alive.

Still chuckling a little, Alexandra put her phone away. “I know you were probably fine. But you have to admit, it was pretty funny how intimidated those women got. Hey, want to join us? We can probably go another round before we should go home and relieve the babysitter. I’ll introduce you to some of the ladies, and I can promise they won’t hit on you.”

This was exactly the opposite of Maura’s expectation for the evening, and she was debating what to do when her phone started buzzing in her hand, with Kent’s name lighting up the screen. “Maybe later. I have to take this,” she held up her phone.

“Any time you want to join us, you’re welcome to!” Alexandra gave a friendly tap to Maura’s upper arm before striding back to her table.

“Dr. Isles,” Maura answered her phone.

“Hello,” Kent’s voice was a bit subdued, “I hope I haven’t interrupted your writing time.”

“Not at all, I’m actually out,” Maura replied, “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted your opinion on some of the lab results for the open case, but it can wait if you’re busy.”

Maura didn’t like to make anyone wait on her during an investigation, though. “It’s fine. What can I help you with?”

“It might be easier if I can show you,” Kent replied, “Is that possible?”

Maura considered. Her plans for the evening seemed unrealizable at this point, anyway, so she reminded him, “Yes, but I’m not home. I’m at a bar in Jamaica Plain.”

“That’s not far from the precinct. I can meet you.”

Maura was satisfied with this, as she didn’t think she was ready to drive anywhere yet, and gave Kent directions. As she hung up, though, a thought occurred to her, and she addressed the bartender, “Are, um, men allowed here?” While it was the twenty-first century and gender expression and identity were far more nuanced than they had been even just twenty years earlier, it was still common practice for these types of establishments to actively keep out male voyeurs or men looking to prove they had the ability to seduce lesbians. Maura considered the latter pursuit to be misguided as plenty of the women inside could easily be bisexual, like herself, or the straight friends of gay women and, therefore, the perceived conquest, while in line with the tenets of male biology and the blueprint of human evolution, was skewed.

The bartender’s eyebrows ticked, but she responded evenly, “Sure. They just have to pay a cover and be accompanied by a female guest. And, of course, inappropriate behavior can get anyone ejected from here, regardless of gender.”

“I can assure you he’s quite harmless,” Maura replied, “I’ll chaperone him.”

“Then there should be no problems,” the bartender smiled.

When Kent arrived, Maura had moved to a table against the wall, to give them more privacy. Whatever he needed to show her probably wasn’t intended for the eyes of the public.

“Wow, this place is great!” he said, sliding into the booth. “I didn’t think this would be your style.”

Maura hadn’t specifically talked to Kent about her bisexuality, but she’d hoped to have carried herself in such a manner that it wouldn’t be shocking to discover she wasn’t straight. “No?” she asked, curious to hear his reasoning.

“I would have thought you to be more of a wine bar type. When you’re not at the Dirty Robber, that is.”

Maura relaxed. “The Robber’s become an extension of the workplace, at this point.”

“That it has,” Kent agreed.

“And what are you drinking tonight?” asked the cocktail server.

“Do you have stout on the menu?”

As the server confirmed that they did, Maura spoke up, “Please put it on my tab.”

“That’s not necessary,” Kent objected.

“This is a work meeting,” Maura insisted, “and I don’t even want to ask what they charged you to get in here.” Before there was room for any further deliberation, she shifted the subject. “What’s going on with the case?”

“Oh! Right, so,” Kent pulled up a series of images on his phone and walked Maura through his observations. Maura quickly realized it was something she had seen before, and as it turned out, her experience corroborated Kent’s conclusions. She suggested a few other methods to use to confirm his findings, and he relayed the message to the lab techs who were working late. He then made a second call, and Maura realized it was probably to the detective on the case. She half-listened until Kent finished the call with a, “Thank you, Detective Rizzoli,” and Maura was jolted with a wave of wistfulness.

“It’s still strange to call Frankie that,” Maura admitted.

“I can imagine,” Kent replied. “Speaking of, how was your visit with the...er, Professor Rizzoli?”

“Calling her that would be even stranger,” Maura grinned, “Jane is fine. We had a nice weekend and spent some quality time with Angela and Ron.”

Kent was watching her with a sympathetic smile, “It’s...difficult for the two of you to be so far apart, isn’t it?”

Maura inhaled deeply, remembering as she did so that Jane had identified it as an indicator of conversational turn Maura found difficult. She had been uncertain of how she felt about Kent for a long time as they developed a working relationship, but gradually they had become friends, and part of what Maura liked about him was that he asked the sort of questions other people didn’t. It was part of what made him good at his job, and could lead to intellectually stimulating conversation, though sometimes, like now, it pushed Maura to talk about things she didn’t know how to discuss. “It is,” she said, succinctly.

Luckily Maura was spared from being forced to elaborate by the arrival of the cocktail waitress, who had been waiting for Kent to hang up his phone before approaching and checking up on them. Maura hesitated, then ordered one more glass of wine, as Kent seemed to be settling in with his beer, and it seemed they would be here for a little while. Much as this was a turn she wasn’t expecting the evening to take, she decided she was alright with it. Besides, Alexandra and Julie had foiled her plans much more thoroughly than Kent.

As the cocktail waitress walked away with Maura’s order, Kent appeared to be taking in his surroundings once again. “Well, this is a great little spot. Is this a recent discovery?”

“No, though this is the first time I’ve been here to relax. I’ve known about this bar since there was a murder here several years ago.”

“Really,” Kent leaned forward with interest, “That’s shocking. Do tell.”

“Oh, it was a very interesting case. We had to make Jane a profile on a lesbian dating website.”

Kent’s expression looked surprised, then amused, “Tell me everything.”

And so Maura spent her evening in a lesbian bar, chatting and laughing with her male friend over drinks, and even if it was only for a night, she missed Jane just a little less.

* * *

 

Jane hadn’t lied. There had been a point in time that day in which she’d considered joining some coworkers for a drink at The Federalist Papers after work, but by the time her day was over, she’d decided against it. She just didn’t have the mental energy to try to force conversation with her coworkers, with whom she had so little in common.

So Jane was at home on her couch, eating leftover pasta that Maura had prepared over the weekend, wrapped in her Red Sox throw and binge-watching _Xena: Warrior Princess_. It was a show Jane had caught a few times in junior college or while she was attending the academy. She’d always liked it, even enjoying how campy it was, and thus far, it was proving to be a good distraction from what already felt like a difficult week.

Jane had assumed that Cameron’s absence this week would make it easier to move on from their breakup, but the opposite was proving to be true. She hadn’t expected their relationship limbo to be present in her mind, but she found herself acutely aware of the fact that she knew they had broken up, but Cameron wouldn’t know until she declined to call him on Friday. A part of her wanted to just tell him now, but she didn’t want to distract him from whatever he was working on. If he was trying to break a case, she knew, from experience, it would be better to wait. So instead, she fixated on the anticipation of Friday, when the breakup she was already experiencing would be official.

She knew that Maura was likely to be working on her writing for much of that evening, and so Jane hadn’t thought much about her phone, which was charging in the kitchen. But when she got up a bit later in the evening to retrieve ice cream out of the freezer, she compulsively checked the screen, and saw a text from Alexandra, the BPD firearms instructor, from over an hour ago.

“Maura came out tonight, but don’t worry, we’re keeping an eye on her for you! Winky face,” The text was so strange that Jane had muttered it aloud. She picked up the phone to reply, but stopped to consider the specifics of Alexandra’s text. Most likely, they had all ended up at the Dirty Robber on the same night. Maura did end up there some evenings, either alone or with friends. It seemed a little strange that Alexandra would want to text Jane about this since it was so mundane, but maybe Maura had gone there to write, and they were unobtrusively watching her, not wanting to interrupt.

Jane figured it would be easiest to just ask Maura about it later. She thought about texting her, but decided to let Maura enjoy her evening out, whatever she was doing. But it made her sad to think they likely wouldn’t text much tonight. Was that normal? They’d seen each other this morning.

Instead, Jane replied to Alexandra.

**Thanks. It’s always good to know there’s “family” around to watch your back.**

After all, BPD was a family unto itself, and Jane knew she would forever be considered family there.

Alexandra replied with a few goofy emoticons as Jane wrestled the plastic ring off of her pint of Ben & Jerry’s. In Jane’s experience, emoticons usually signaled the end of the conversation, so she left her phone and headed back to her couch to watch Xena perform gravity-defying battle moves. In the back of her mind, she heard Maura declaring the physics to be impossible.

Tuesday was like any other day--really, so far the week felt like any other week when Cameron was out on assignment--at least until Jane made her midday coffee run. When her regular coffee shop was advertising its _V-Day Special: Buy One Drink, Get Second Drink Half Off_ , Jane abruptly realized it was Valentine’s Day. She knew it was coming, obviously, but had managed to let it slip her mind thus far that day.

This wasn’t really surprising, given that it wasn’t really a holiday that Jane celebrated. She never seemed to have a serious boyfriend when it rolled around, and besides, it’s not like it was ever a day she wasn’t working. It tended to be a bit of a busy night at the precinct, as it brought out strong emotions in people, or at least in people who weren’t Jane, whose attitude was largely indifferent.

Jane tried to make sense of the vague disappointment she felt after leaving the coffee shop. She wasn’t upset about Cameron, considering she was positive she wanted it to be officially over on Friday. It’s not like they would have spent the day together, anyway, and they’d certainly not made any plans. Jane wasn’t missing out on any holiday rituals she normally would’ve indulged in, because Valentine’s Day was just like any other day to her. She’d spent it alone many times, except not really, because she was always at least around her coworkers.

The only person she’d ever consistently spent Valentine’s Day with was Maura. And that was because it was often like any other day for Maura, too. The first few years, Maura had lamented that she didn’t happen to be seeing anyone during the holiday, and Jane had joined in, out of solidarity more than actual sentiment. But by the third year or so, they never even discussed men on the holiday, or at least didn’t discuss men _because_ of the holiday. It was their day, but only because like most other days, they spent it together.

Jane continued on with her otherwise average day, for the first time wishing she was spending the holiday with someone. Jane had always been just romantic enough to like the idea of Valentine’s Day holding some actual meaning for her, and it seemed that, due to routine, it had unintentionally happened. Even if it wasn’t a romantic holiday for them, to Jane, Maura’s absence on Valentine’s Day was acutely felt.

Maura had plans for Valentine’s Day, it turned out, though she, too, was staying in. She had texted about planning some kind of home spa experience, a hot bath, aromatherapy, candles, soothing classical music. There was suggestion that Jane do the same, to pamper herself, but it sounded kind of excessive to Jane, but she knew Maura found experiences like these relaxing. It also apparently meant she’d be unplugged from technology for at least two hours. Jane could respect that, but was a little disappointed it meant there was less time for them to spend texting that evening.

* * *

 

Maura was indeed planning to spend Valentine’s Day relaxing alone at home, but because she was choosing to observe the holiday by loving herself. She didn’t always celebrate Valentine’s Day and had spent several alone or working, but she’d also certainly spent plenty of them involved in romantic pursuits, whether it was meeting someone new for drinks or having a one-night stand. She’d even spent a few with long-term boyfriends, back when she’d had those in her life, which had often felt more like an exercise in formality than a day of passion. But Maura enjoyed formality, too, so she still was pleased with experience. Almost invariably, she found a way to enjoy Valentine’s Day.

In recent years, of course, it had become a holiday she and Jane spent together. And that was precisely the problem, because part of Maura’s evening of loving herself involved, well, literal self-love, and after the weekend she’d just had, Maura found it difficult to keep her thoughts off of Jane. The fact that she hadn’t gone home with anyone from the bar the night before, like she’d hoped she might, didn’t help.

Though Maura could admit that she had been carrying a bit of a torch for Jane for quite awhile, she had also been just as keenly aware of the platonic nature of their relationship. She had never been confused or imagined their Valentine’s Days together to be anything other than a celebration of their friendship. So while it was to some degree natural to have Jane on her mind, it was also incredibly inconvenient.

Her evening had been fairly successful. She’d enjoyed an epsom salt and lavender oil foot soak, had done a steam treatment on her face followed by a face mask, then had caressed herself with a sugar scrub to make her skin as soft as it could get. After rinsing, she indulged in a long soak in an aromatic bath, alternately meditating to relax and allowing her mind to begin to tap into fantasy in anticipation of the masturbatory finale to her evening.

Maybe she should have finished writing that erotic vignette about the blacksmith. Maybe _that_ would have helped her process it to keep it compartmentalized, because as she soaked in the hot bath, the steamy air brought her right back to that dream, with the strange haze filling the forge. The percussive sounds in the classical music were like a distant hammer. Everything brought Maura back to that dream, that moment of realization of the erotic power of Jane the Blacksmith.

As surreal as the dream had been, it had also been hyperrealistic, at least in terms of emotional intensity. It made the dream vivid even upon recall days later, to the degree that Maura felt a jolt of pleasure simply thinking about it. And letting her thoughts linger on it, well...that produced heat as her blood pumped, coiling down her body.

That was dangerous. Maura forced her thoughts away from Jane, groping for a different erotic stimulant. It wasn’t too difficult, as Maura’s tastes were broad and her experience rather varied. She flipped through her mental erotic rolodex, through previous encounters, remembered clips of films or images, and a plethora of pieces of writing (some of which were only erotic due to their sheer subliminal euphony), and scenarios of Maura’s own invention, including a few dark or strange ones she only felt capable of exploring in fantasy.

Maura let her mind relax into the sexual id of her subconsciousness, absently moving her hands over her body under the water. She acknowledged the presence of Jane the Blacksmith in her thoughts and, attempting to use meditation techniques, allowed it to float away, and the next thought to surface. Strangely, her brain produced the sex scene in the film _Black Swan_ , which was narratively somewhat frightening but visually stimulating, and there was a tingle of pleasure through her body. And then there was Jane the Blacksmith resurfacing in her mind again.

Okay. Maybe thinking about women wasn’t a good idea. Maura focused on men. The first thought to crop up was sex with Jack, which had been very tender and vanilla, and, Maura realized, completely lacked any sexual appeal now that she was no longer in love with him. She could remember it only with nostalgic fondness. She brought out something stronger, one of the best one-night stands she’d had while vacationing in Europe in her early twenties. It was one of her favorite memories to go back to, and there was pleasure there in the thought of it, but Maura couldn’t stay focused on it.

Clearly, the libido wanted what it wanted, and right now, it wanted women. Maura trailed hands lower on her body as she thought of the dirty fantasies she’d had about the curvy flight attendant that usually worked her regular flight home from seeing Jane. But as much as she enjoyed the thought, it was hard to sustain, as she didn’t know the woman well enough to guess what kind of sexual chemistry they might have together. Not like Jane, who she knew well enough to hypothesize their potential chemistry.

Maura turned her thoughts away again, letting Jane drift away, and remembered Simone. There was definitely a surge of arousal at the thought of her. Simone had been the satisfaction of a long-time unrequited longing, a schoolgirl crush turned bedroom conquest. Maura had never loved Simone, because she had not known her well enough to love her, but she had been one of the first women Maura had ever been attracted to, and the victorious feeling of finally sleeping with someone she had been drawn to for so long had been intoxicating.

Simone was good fantasy fodder, and Maura touched herself gently, slowly, as she remembered the excited bounding in her stomach when Simone had first pulled Maura to her, drawing her in for a kiss. They had just gotten back to their hotel from the Dutch coffee shop, and Maura was high, hazy, and happy, and the moment was sudden sharp sensation, lifting the cloud in Maura’s head and giving her an awareness of how much her body was already relaxed, yet awake and tingling in pleasure, her skin aflame with Simone’s touch.

They didn’t have to say much, but briefly agreed that this was mutually desired, and that no strings were attached, as it was about reciprocal attraction in the moment. And when Maura felt Simone’s soft flesh press her against the door, and strong hands settle on her waist, she was already so aroused, she whimpered. To be touched by a woman like this, after so long…

What followed had become difficult to remember in detail, because it had been so intense and Maura had been very high. Maura had been in a bit of a dry spell before sleeping with Simone, and the way her libido overtook her rational mind also seemed to impact her recollection of events. But there were moments of sharp clarity that Maura could recall that flooded her body with excitement now. The way it felt when her back arched as Simone’s tongue began to move between her legs, and how powerful she felt as her hand reached down and curled into the hair of the prettiest girl at her boarding school. The intoxicating euphoria of sliding her fingers into the warm, soft heat of Simone, and the surprise and delight as they moaned together in the moment. The way Simone would whisper in French, dirty-talk that Maura was barely able to make full sense of, but what she did decipher made her feel hot and light and utterly, joyously depraved.

Maura opened her eyes, lifting her hand away from herself and letting it float back up to the surface of the water. Her bath had started to turn cold, and she pulled the plug with her toes. As the lukewarm water slowly drained, Maura tucked the curtain back in place and turned on the shower, soaping up and rinsing off quickly. As much as she enjoyed baths, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was simply soaking in her own filth, and always showered afterwards. It made her feel even sexier as she headed to her bed, knowing her skin was so clean. She detoured to her drawer to retrieve one of her vibrators. Even after pausing her reverie to shower, her body was still humming with thoughts of Simone, her heart racing in anticipation of what was to come.

She lay on top of her comforter, writhing a little to relish how soft her skin was from the sugar scrub. The spa treatment itself was almost foreplay, really. Maura brought back the most exciting impressions from her time with Simone, fingers dipping between her legs to verify how aroused she still was. It probably wouldn’t take much, and Maura wanted to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak--that is, she wanted to get off while she was still able to focus on Simone. She reached for her vibrator.

Often, the strong sensation of the vibrator was enough to make fantasy almost peripheral, but Maura still chose to direct her thoughts as she gently moved the vibrator over herself, finding a rhythm between her hand and her hips, as her other hand gently rolled one of her nipples. But Maura’s mind worked quickly, especially when she was excited, and before long, she was flipping through the memories of Simone so quickly that they were beginning to lose erotic impact. Yet her hips were moving in tighter and tighter circles, chasing the vibrator, her fingers were getting rougher with her nipple, and her belly was coiling, she was _close_ , and--

Focusing on Simone’s head between her legs, Maura was abruptly coming, an orgasm built more of pure sensation than fulfillment of erotic desire. And just as she felt the first flash of disappointment that after everything, it would be barely more than a maintenance orgasm, abruptly she was remembering Simone pushing her against the door, but it wasn’t Simone, it was Jane the Blacksmith, in her dream, and an erotic charge poured through her, redoubling her climax. Maura jolted, the shock of it forcing a groan from her, and her hips were bucking at the intensity as her mind exploded, now as engaged in the orgasm as her body.

Gradually, Maura settled, her hand falling limply at her side as her hips stopped undulating, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She could hear her heartbeat in her head, felt her entire body as if she were floating in bliss. She let herself enjoy it for as long as she could, but when she got up to wash the vibrator, she had to confront the fact that, yet again, an orgasm of hers had been strongly impacted by Jane.

Maura had always been happy to have Jane’s friendship, had never seen it as something lesser or worse than a romantic relationship. It was the nature of their connection and Maura could not ask it to be something it was not, and the pain of not having Jane in her life was far worse than the occasional longing for a different kind of intimacy between them. Yet now, when they were more far apart than ever, her libido had attached itself to Jane.

At least in this moment, Maura decided, she could do just as much about her sexual desires as she could about their platonic relationship. So she set those things aside and, vowing to find an appropriate sexual outlet soon, she reached for her phone to send her next _Words With Friends_ move to Jane.

* * *

 

By Wednesday, some things were very much back to normal, like playing word games with Maura during her lunch break and spending a few minutes on FaceTime with Angela and TJ. Other things were still awkward, like going alone to the bar that had been her after work hangout with Cameron. There were several familiar faces from the academy faculty, even a few people she actually knew, but it never felt like the right time to ease into a conversation. She hung back at a small table in the corner, somewhere she could see the entirety of the bar. It was a skill, more than a habit, wanting to be able to keep tabs on her surroundings and she’d been doing it ever since she’d set sights on becoming a detective. Back in Boston, she’d been more relaxed, because she was almost always with family or fellow members of the force at the Dirty Robber. But here she was still a stranger to most and there wasn’t really any urge to get comfortable.

Jane didn’t stay long that night. There hadn’t really been anyone she wanted to socialize with, and after a drink or so, being alone at The Federalist Papers was depressing. Maybe she just needed more time to find her feet in DC. The breakup with Cameron was bound to change the way she socialized, considering their shared social circle was mostly his circle, and probably she just had to look around a little harder to find the people whose company she really enjoyed.

But to do that, Jane felt she needed her breakup with Cameron to be final, so she stayed in on Thursday and was doing the same now that it was Friday. She cleared her coffee table to start a new puzzle and worked through it while _Xena_ played in the background and her phone occasionally lit up with notifications from Maura, either a text or a new play in _Words With Friends_. Later that evening, they even FaceTimed for a little bit as Maura sat at her desk with a glass of wine, unwinding from her workweek.

“Any plans this weekend?” Maura asked her.

Jane’s eyes darted from Maura’s face on her tablet to her puzzle. “Depends on how much trouble this puzzle gives me,” she grunted, grinning a little. “How about you?”

“As long as the weekend stays devoid of active cases, I’ll be working on my novel,” Maura sipped her wine.

“Sounds good,” Jane nodded. She knew it was important for Maura to write, even though that usually meant Maura was incommunicado for much of the day.

“What’s this one?” Maura asked.

“Abigail Adams,” was Jane’s dry response.

“Interesting choice.”

“The gift shop near my pizza place has first ladies on clearance.”

Maura leaned on her desk, hand tucked under her chin. “She was very influential in women’s rights, you know.”

“What, I don’t get enough history lessons when you’re here?”

“You’re the one who chose the puzzle.”

“Because it was three dollars, not because I’m a nerd.” Maura shifted back in her chair, irritated, but playfully so. Or at least, Jane hoped. “Fine, what else did she do?”

Maura glared at Jane through the camera on her iPad as she sipped her wine. But as the glass lowered, she began to cite trivia about the former first lady. It wasn’t the conversation Jane expected, but there was a familiarity to half-listening to Maura spout facts while she focused on something. By the time the conversation had moved on, Jane had sorted all the edge pieces from the rest.

Later that night, as Jane tried to fall asleep, she reflected on the fact that she hadn’t called Cameron and that, as of midnight, their relationship, as undefined as it had been, was officially over. True to his word, he left her alone and didn’t try to contact her at all over the weekend. That was fine with Jane, because she was ready to move forward. Or to continue moving forward, because he hadn’t really been holding her back from anything.

As Sunday came to a close, Jane wondered if she’d been the one keeping herself back, because she hadn’t reached out to anyone to grab a beer or see whatever action movie was playing, which were both things Jane would have done if she were back in Boston and Maura wasn’t available to hang out. Really, she spent most of the weekend putting together Abigail Adams, hoping the week would fly by so it would be time for Maura to come back and they could fall back into their regular routine.

Was this what the rest of her life was going to be like? Waiting for alternate Fridays to roll around?

Maybe she needed to try harder to integrate into her new life. This wasn’t a summer away from home. This _was_ her new home.

She just wasn’t sure how to make it feel that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was delayed, but June was family vacation month. We'll be back on our regular first of the month posting schedule in July. Thank you, as always, for reading and we love hearing from you guys. :)


	11. Chapter 11

The apartment door had just closed behind Jane on a Tuesday evening when she had an incoming call from her mother. She answered as she shrugged off her coat. “Hey, Ma. I just got home from work.”

“Jane Clementine.” The voice was steely, the kind that made Jane’s spine straighten and her stomach sink. Jane waited, and after a moment, Angela spoke again, her voice a forced, lighter tone. “I just got off the phone with Cameron,” she said.

“Oh,” Jane replied, sliding into a seat at her kitchen counter. She couldn’t figure out what else to say.

“I had called to ask him some questions about things to do the next time I came to visit you two. He was kind enough to answer my questions, but then he told me that it was very unlikely that I would be seeing him on our next visit.” She paused, then, “Why didn’t you tell me that the two of you had broken up?”

It was a dangerous question, because there was no satisfactory answer. The truth was that Jane just had never been any good at talking about things like this with her mother, because Angela had never quite been able to mask her disappointment over Jane’s breakups, even when it was with someone she didn’t particularly like, and especially as Jane got older. And Jane had always felt that disappointment directed, primarily, at her. “I don’t know, Ma. It just never came up. It’s…it’s not like we were really serious.”

“Oh, I see. So you introduced me to your sex friend, that you weren’t that serious about? Come on, Janie.” Angela’s voice had a pitying quality that made Jane prickle with resentment. “Don’t you…don’t you _want_ to settle down?”

“ _Yes_. Of course I do,” Jane answered with a fervor that surprised even her, then hesitated. “It just…I just haven’t found…”

“The right person,” Angela finished for her, “Those reasons it won’t work? You _look_ for those reasons. You always have.”

Jane tried to push aside her frustration at Angela’s words. It had never seemed to her that she’d broken up with guys frivolously. There were just very few men who were up for everything Jane brought with her to a relationship—her career, her independence, the fact that she could probably out-fight and out-drink most of them. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Ma. I didn’t think it would matter so much to you.” Apologizing to her mother had gotten less fraught as they’d gotten closer in the past few years, and it felt good to be able to do it so easily now.

But apparently, it was the wrong kind of apology. “How can you say that? Of course it matters to me! All I want is for you to be happy.”

“Well, maybe I wasn’t happy with him!” Jane didn’t mean to turn it into an argument, especially when that wasn’t precisely true. She had been content with Cameron, certainly. But it suddenly wasn’t about Cameron anymore, and Jane felt her face flushing hot, her jaw tightening, and words were spilling out before she could control them, “Besides, it never seemed to matter to you that I was happy being a cop!”

There was an intake of breath on the other end of the line, and Jane bit the side of her hand, unable to believe she the way she’d just thrown the words back into her mother’s face. “I didn’t _make_ you stop,” Angela said.

Jane laughed bitterly, “No, but it was fine for Frankie to be a detective. And Tommy, no matter how many times he screws up, he’s the baby, so as long as he’s not locked up, he’s fine. But I had to move hundreds of miles away from you for you to be okay with who I am!”

Angela’s voice was more baffled than hurt now, “Janie, I didn’t ask you to move away!”

“Of course not,” Jane said, letting sarcasm edge her voice, “I’ll talk to you later, Ma.” She hung up before her mother could say anything else, and it was only then that she realized she was crying, hot tears born of anger and frustration more than grief.

Angrily wiping at her face, Jane stalked off to the bedroom to change out of her work clothes, letting her dark thoughts surface as she performed her evening ritual. How could Angela say that she hadn’t made her move? Did she really have no idea that Jane had moved here because she knew how much her mother needed her to be safe? How much good that peace of mind had been for her, for them both? After Alice Sands, Boston didn’t feel that safe anymore, not even to Jane. Every delivery van, every sewer grate, seemed to hold the threat of her in its very structure. Boston had belonged to both of them, and Jane couldn’t share anything with Alice Sands ever again.

And Angela had _always_ been harder on Jane than on either of her brothers. Frankie had never gotten half the amount of grief Jane had gotten for his career, as if being a woman in law enforcement hadn’t come with enough double standards. And since Tommy had given their mother a grandchild, now more than ever he could do no wrong—though Jane had to admit, he did have his life on track now, moreso than any other part of his adulthood. But with Jane, for her whole life it had always been “be careful” or “don’t do it” or “why must you choose such a dangerous career?”

But as Jane changed into her casual clothes and sat down on the couch with a beer, her anger began to subside. As she absently began to watch _Xena_ , her conversation with her mother began to linger in her mind, and she replayed the obvious hurt in her mother’s voice.

She owed her mother another apology. That became apparent before too long. But she had no idea how to begin issuing this one. When they lived in the same city, she could bring her mother a gift, usually cannolis or something else delicious, usually from the old neighborhood, and the apology was implicit and well received. Now, she could only offer her words, and those seemed particularly insufficient right now. And mailing something would take days, and lack the same gravity of a hand-delivered gift.

Eventually, she sighed, reached for her phone, and called Maura.

“Jane? Is everything okay?” Maura answered after several rings.

“Hey,” Jane replied, “Everything’s...well. I need a favor. Are you still at work?”

“I’m just about to finish up my clinic hours for the evening. What do you need?”

“Can you go to the North End to that pastry shop Ma loves? Not the real touristy one, the good one, you know which I mean?”

“The one with the greasy pastries? Of course.”

“Can you please bring my Ma some cannolis? Let her know they’re from me and I’m sorry.”

Maura hummed, and sounded as though she were tempted to ask questions, but ultimately she just said, “I will do that for you as soon as I finish up here.”

Jane recognized the finality in Maura’s tone, and was grateful that she didn’t have time to press Jane about what had happened. “I’ll let you go. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll text you later.”

Jane felt better already, and was able to enjoy her lazy evening a little more as she waited to hear from either Maura or her mother.

Later that evening, she got a text from Maura.

**A warning may have been prudent. Your mother was almost as angry with me for not telling her about your breakup with Cameron.**

Jane felt horrible and guilty as soon as she realized she had failed to have Maura’s back. What kind of a friend was she?

**Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that**

**Ultimately, it’s not an issue. I’m taking her out for French food tomorrow as an apology and she seems to have forgiven me. I think she’s forgiven you, too, but she isn’t quite ready to talk.**

**Okay. Good. Thanks, Maura. I’m sorry to have put you in the middle of this**

**Please don’t worry about it. I know how to handle your mother by now.**

And that, Jane supposed, was true, but she was broody now, fixated on the way her pride had led Maura into Angela’s trap. Of course, it wasn’t Maura’s business to inform Angela of Jane’s breakup, but Angela had never been rational when she felt like her family kept secrets from her. But Jane knew that secrets were how her family stayed together. Everything had been fine before her father’s secrets started coming out--the affairs, the financial problems, the fact that they’d all somehow missed that he was a world-class jerk…

Jane brushed the thoughts away. She hated thinking of her Pop, it only led to the bone-deep sorrow that the man she’d idolized had deserved none of her admiration, her affection, and it hurt thinking of all the times she’d taken his side in favor of her mother, or her brothers. She had failed to protect all of them.

As the week progressed, Jane’s dark mood lingered. It didn’t have much to do with Angela anymore, because she was sure that everything between them would be resolved shortly. It wasn’t even about her father, either, as she’d been able to shake those thoughts off was practiced ease. It wasn’t about Cameron, who she’d barely thought of and hadn’t seen except for once at a distance since he’d come home. It was just...ennui, which happened to be the latest word Maura had played on _Words With Friends_ , coincidentally.

She was playing more of the game during her class time this week. Maybe it was the very beginning of some kind of spring fever, which Jane remembered definitely made students like her restless, but it seemed really difficult to motivate her students lately. She had resorted to more small group discussions and pop quizzes to earn extra credit--nothing designed to trap her students, just things for them to do that allowed Jane to be a little more hands off. They seemed content to talk in groups, and Jane wasn’t too interested in making sure they were only discussing classwork, and at least they were quiet for quizzes.

Teaching had seemed easy, even fun, when she’d been a guest lecturer. Maura had tried it, too, and had really seemed to enjoy it, though she hadn’t continued teaching, and Jane thought she was starting to see why. It was exciting when you were new to the students, when your stories were new and they were invested in what you had to say. But by now, Jane felt like she had already told most of her best stories, and when she told her students about the methods of police work that she found most effective through time and experience, she was starting to face more pushback, either in the form of questions that sounded rhetorical and combative to Jane, or from students who claimed the book contradicted Jane’s material. Jane usually found a way to make what the book said work in her favor, anyway, but the loaded questions were getting frustrating. She tried to remind herself that they were likely practicing interrogation technique on her, but she hated feeling like they didn’t respect her.

So, ennui. But at least she had the weekend to look forward to.

* * *

 

“What _is_ this?” Maura stood in front of Jane’s open refrigerator, making the usual bi-weekly list of items to pick up at Saturday’s farmer’s market.

“Uh,” Jane craned her neck from her position on the couch, trying to see what Maura was referencing. “Oh, that’s my mother’s forgiveness.”

The item in question was what looked to have been, at one time, an edible arrangement of various fruit on sticks, but nearly all of the skewered pieces had single bites taken out of them. “This isn’t sanitary.”

“At least I was eating fruit instead of pizza.”

Maura reached to the shelf below the half-eaten display and retrieved a greasy cardboard box. As she shook it, a single dried-up slice scraped around inside. “So then what’s this?”

“Okay, I wasn’t eating _only_ pizza.”

Maura chuckled, but took out the box and shoved it into the trash. Jane’s eyes flicked to it in disappointment, but she didn’t argue. The banter was familiar, easy, but already something about this weekend felt different. There was a distance between them that Maura was convinced to be her own fault.

Though Maura was comfortable with their dynamic and had been for a long time, her erotic imagination’s new fixation on Jane was difficult for her to ignore. She had been nervous about her visit for the first time, worried that somehow, she would project her feelings in a way that Jane would notice. It would be embarrassing for her, and probably even moreso for Jane. Maura found herself scrutinizing her behavior in the back of her mind. This was why she hated to have secrets. They were difficult to contain, though Maura had tried. She had done as much as she could to take care of her libido before leaving for the weekend, and had successfully not thought about her best friend while doing so. Maura felt that things were reasonably contained, but in the long run, she needed more time to compartmentalize.

However, it didn’t take too long for Maura to realize that the distance between them was not solely because of her own anxieties. As much as she was in her own head, she wasn’t blind to Jane’s moods, and Jane was decidedly...sulky. The first night, Jane said she was just tired, which was easy enough to believe, and getting Chinese food delivered as opposed to going out somewhere was fine with Maura. But on Saturday morning, when it was time to head to the farmer’s market, Jane was being very difficult to motivate.

“Can’t you just go?” Jane whined. “I don’t want to run into Cameron.”

“Given that we only ever ran into him once in all of the times we’ve gone out, the probability of us running into him again is low. I’m not your personal shopper, I am your best friend and I think you need to get out of the apartment for a while.” Maura collected the bags they always used to carry their market purchases from the front closet. She knew Jane would need an extra nudge, so she had already decided on a concession she was willing to make. “In addition to making sure you get an extra large coffee, I will personally buy you one fried item of your choice.”

That got Jane’s attention. “You mean I can finally have a fried Twinkie for breakfast and you won’t come at me with a list of reasons why it’s poor meal planning?”

Maura exhaled an extended sigh. “It’s against my better judgement, given your family history of high cholesterol, but...yes.”

Jane’s mood brightened a little, though Maura already began anticipating what the sugar crash was going to look like, much like she did when she was watching TJ, though his eating habits were somewhat better than his aunt’s. However, since they made it through the entire shopping experience without encountering Cameron, Jane was less moody and likely still buzzing from her twenty-four ounces of coffee by the time they returned to the apartment. While she wasn’t offering much conversation, she had at least progressed from sulking to vegetating in front of the television. Maura sat with her, watching Xena flip around on the screen.

“You do realize there’s no possible way she could move that way independently,” she declared. “A practical application of physics wouldn’t allow for it.”

Jane didn’t say anything, but there was a definite smirk plastered across her lips.

Maura didn’t really mind having a low-intensity day in, and even found most of _Xena_ entertaining in spite of the impossible physics and inaccuracies in mythology. She did like to try to sightsee when she was visiting Jane, which Jane usually tolerated well. But when Maura listed a few sites they could go that they hadn’t seen yet, Jane didn’t respond with much more than noncommittal grunts. Maura stopped suggesting places by Saturday evening, but she was troubled. Even if Jane was being less sulky, and even if she typically required some prodding to do something cultural, it wasn’t like her to actually refuse go anywhere, especially because going places with Maura usually ended with gourmet food and artisan beer.

Finally, as they were finishing their last drinks and beginning to wind down toward bedtime, Maura dared to broach the subject. “Jane?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you...okay?”

Jane paused briefly, as if considering the question, but then replied quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine, Maura.” There was another pause, and Maura wondered if she should press Jane further. Jane usually needed prompting to discuss her feelings, and she would tell Maura to drop it if she pressed too hard. But before Maura could consider what to say, Jane started, “It’s just…” and sighed. Maura waited. Finally, Jane said, “I guess I just didn’t realize how much of my social life here depended on Cameron. Feels like I just moved here all over again.”

Maura could sympathize. She had felt something very similar when Jane had moved and she realized how much of the city felt like places she and Jane shared. The difference, of course, was that while Jane had been the catalyst for a lot of Maura’s friendships in Boston, she now knew Jane’s family well enough to have independent connections with each of them, and she was quite familiar with the city itself. Maura hadn’t been completely displaced by Jane’s absence, but she could see how Jane had been because of her breakup with Cameron. “That’s understandable,” she replied, then decided to push a little. “Have you considered talking to someone about it?”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No,” Jane replied, “This is just a normal part of adjusting to a new city. I’ll get used to it.”

“Just because it’s normal doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about, especially if it’s bothering you, or _depressing_ you.” She emphasized the last phrase, because that did seem to be the most likely explanation for Jane’s behavior and moodiness.

“I’m fine,” Jane insisted, and Maura dropped it.

After a beat, she couldn’t resist, “Too bad I can’t fly with my acupuncture kit in my carry-on.” She was teasing, with a mild hope that Jane might at least consider it.

“You’re not putting needles in me,” Jane deadpanned, eyes on the television.

“I bet Xena would try it.” Maura had no certainty that the character would allow for someone to perform acupuncture on her, but given that she was fictional, she felt moderately better about making an assumption.

“If you let me flip around with a sword and kick people in the face, then I’ll think about it.”

Maura chuckled, feeling somewhat better that Jane was exhibiting some of her usual good humor, though the remainder of the weekend continued the same as it had started and, by the time Maura boarded her flight home, she still wasn’t certain about the status of her friend’s emotional state.

* * *

 

“Sulky” wasn’t really the right term for what Jane was feeling. Lonely. Out of place. Detached. These were more accurate. She wasn’t mourning the loss of her relationship with Cameron, because there wasn’t really much of one to miss. But she was absolutely confronted with the truth that she hadn’t taken the time or effort to actually settle in and get comfortable with DC. She’d texted Maura a much more concise version of this on Monday and, in her usual earnest effort to help, Maura had replied with suggestions of possible outings for Jane to make by herself.

So far, it had been okay. There was a mac and cheese food truck that had been fun to track down, blending her love of gooey pasta and with a chance to flex her detective muscles. When she’d finally located the orange truck, she felt a small but obvious sense of accomplishment she hadn’t really felt since taking up teaching at the academy. Other suggested activities were the batting cages (it wasn’t quite the season for it yet, but it was something to look forward to once the weather warmed up a bit), an escape room (which would definitely put Jane’s deductive skills to work, but she was uncertain about taking that on with strangers), and an upscale movie theater that offered both gourmet pizza and beer from a local brewery to its patrons.

Friday was somewhat of a gloomy day and, even though Jane debated going home after her last class, she was admittedly looking forward to her trip to the movies. She was seeing some independent film that Maura was also planning to catch around the same time in Boston, so it was like they were seeing it together. And, as much as she always loved spending time together, Maura had a tendency to talk during movies, to ask rhetorical questions that were met with shushes from Jane. So maybe this plan would work out, because then they’d have something to talk about, Maura would stop bugging her about culture for a few days, and Jane would be able to sample some local beer.

The first snag in Jane’s evening came as she was ordering her drink from the concession counter. Next to the regular list of beers offered by the establishment was a poster advertising the current seasonal brew, an Irish red in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day. Jane saw it, felt a momentary leap of excitement, followed by a crash of disappointment at the realization that she would not be in Boston for it.

Though she wasn’t Irish, St. Patrick’s Day was nonetheless one of Jane’s favorite holidays. Like many holidays in which revelry was encouraged, Jane had been on the clock for it many times, but she had also enjoyed celebrating it just as many times. It was absolutely one of those quintessentially Boston experiences, and Jane had never considered the possibility that it would no longer be part of her life until now.

The idea of spending St. Patrick’s Day by herself in DC made Jane extremely sad.

In the moment, she was forced to brush it off and order her beer and pizza. She wondered if she would ever not be sad that she wasn’t in Boston. It was partly missing her family and Maura, of course, but the sadness of missing the city itself was a different from the kind of pain she’d felt the other day when Maura told her she was taking TJ to fencing lessons, and she realized how much of his life she was missing out on. Two different kinds of despair. Jane didn’t think she’d ever categorized her sadnesses like this before.

Luckily, the movie was actually very engaging. Since Maura chose the film, Jane had been worried she was in for something super artsy, but it had a pretty straightforward narrative, with sci-fi elements that she really liked. Jane had a great time at the movies that night, and pizza, beer, and reclining comfy theater seats made a big difference. Though she’d felt a little self-conscious about going to the movies by herself, by the time it finished, she wasn’t bothered about it, and was pretty sure she’d found at least one place in DC that made her like living there a little more.

She walked back to the Metro station to head home. It was getting late, but the streets were well-lit and still relatively populated, so Jane didn’t feel unsafe on her walk. She was still alert, though, but that was basically second-nature to her. The cold night air had dissolved the last remnants of the buzz from her beer, the only heaviness in her body the dull fatigue from her long and dreary week.

As she waited for her train, she texted Maura a few of her thoughts about the movie, but Maura must’ve still been in her showing of it or possibly driving home, because she didn’t reply. Without much else to do, Jane sat, idly focusing on her surroundings, and thinking about her upcoming week. There wasn’t too much to consider, however. She’d work, hang out at home, see what Maura was up to. Maybe they could go to the movies “together” again.

On the train, Jane pulled her phone back out to ponder her next _Words With Friends_ move. She knew she could spell a few very simple words, but she felt certain there had to be some way to strategically place her “Y” to get more points, so she dawdled over her move.

But as the train car began to empty out, a feeling began to crawl up Jane’s spine. A feeling she knew, but hadn’t felt in a while. Ever prepared to trust her gut, Jane focused on it. She continued to hold her phone, her head down, but now she was looking around surreptitiously, observing the people left in the car. She was listening, too, ears perked for any sound besides the pounding of her own heart.

There was a man sitting across from her and several seats down. A young man bundled up in a heavy coat. And as Jane looked at him in her periphery, she was struck with a sudden sensation of recognition like a fist squeezing her bowels.

He was that boy. The one who shot his friends in the sewer while obeying the orders of Alice Sands.

But how could he be here? It didn’t make any sense. Jane tilted her head just enough to get a better view. It wasn’t the same boy, she saw quickly, and the fact comforted her. And yet, despite the heat in the train car, her entire body felt very cold. She couldn’t quite see his eyes, which were half-closed, but something about his posture told her he was looking at her. It had to have been his eyes she’d felt on her, as if they’d been physically crawling across her skin.

Maybe there was a reason he reminded her of that kid. They both had that same aura of threat. There was something in his pocket, she could see his fist wrapped around it. A weapon?

They were approaching her stop. Jane felt the adrenaline pumping through her body. He probably didn’t mean her any harm, but when train car doors opened, and Jane moved quickly, eager to put as much distance between them as possible. As she hustled toward the station exit, she glanced back just enough to see that he, too, had exited the train and was following her, his head down, his hands shoved in his coat pockets.

But was he actually following her? It was impossible to know. But he didn’t feel right. The situation didn’t feel right, and Jane had to act.

Jane decided in an instant that she was not going to run, and walked quickly toward a doorway to the street exit, but once she’d turned the corner toward the doors, she stopped and waited. She felt her entire body fill with fire, and all her focus was on the sound of his footsteps, and as he rounded the corner, she reached for her belt to draw her gun, and shouted in his face the first thing that came to mind: “You better back away!”

Only there was no gun. Jane pulled up empty air. There was a moment of shock and confusion, but she recovered quickly, before she could be afraid, and moved toward him threateningly, keeping the upper hand. His hands were out of his pockets, he was holding them up.

“Wh-what do you want?” the kid stuttered, “I don’t have any cash,” he blurted. The empty soda bottle in his coat pocket clattered out onto the cement.

Jane stopped. He thought he was being mugged. Now that she was faced with him, she could see him for what he was: a kid on his way home, with only a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude to protect him. She backed away from him, “Get out of here. Go home,” she told him, and turned and ran.

Once she was up the stairs of her building and behind the locked door of her apartment, Jane noted she was sweating and out of breath. She shed her jacket, tossing it on the arm of the couch and dropping her body onto the seat cushions, sitting with her phone in her hand. Should she text Maura? Where was Maura? Why hadn’t she replied to her earlier messages? Was Maura okay? What if the gut feeling from the train was because something happened back home? That would happen, sometimes. Jane sometimes had dreams or instincts she couldn’t quite explain. Maura would say it was subconscious processing of information she’d already obtained, but Angela also occasionally bragged about mild psychic ability being a family trait. Her mother. What if something happened to her mother? Not even looking at the time, Jane immediately dialed Angela’s number. After four rings, it went to voicemail. She tried to force herself to breathe, to consider the facts. It was Friday, a busy night for the Dirty Robber. Her mother could easily be working a closing shift. She pulled up the number for the bar and hit send.

“Dirty Robber, this is Angela.”

The sound of her mother’s voice was calming, but Jane still had to ask. “Ma! Are you okay?”

“Janie? Yes, I’m fine.”

“Have you heard from Maura?”

“Sure, she’s sitting ten feet away from me with Frankie and Nina.”

Wait, Maura was at the bar? Just hanging out? “She’s there? Why isn’t she answering her phone?”

“Probably because it’s back here charging behind the bar.”

Jane pushed out a sigh. Everything was fine. “Oh.”

“Are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“Yeah, Ma.” Though Jane didn’t feel okay. She felt better knowing her family was safe, but her heart hadn’t stopped racing.

“Did you need to talk to Maura?”

“No, I’ll...just tell her to text me later.”

“Are you sure? It sounded like it was important.”

“It’s not,” Jane assured her, though she wasn’t sure how believable she sounded. “I gotta go. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you, too, Jane.”

The call ended and Jane fell back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. Despite the resistance she put up whenever she was dragged to a yoga class, she found herself drawing in some deep, centering breaths, trying to calm herself down. It worked, in part, though she was jerked out of her momentary stillness by a car alarm on the street below.

After the evening’s events, she was too tired to put in some time with the punching bag, so she opted for a shower. It was a quick one, because something about being contained in the tiny bathroom left her feeling vulnerable. By the time she got out, she had a text from Maura containing some of Maura’s thoughts about the movie they’d just seen, but Jane couldn’t articulate a response, so she replied with a few words of agreement. Maura responded with some more details, but after another short reply from Jane, the conversation stalled. Jane felt bad that she didn’t have more to say, so she said she was tired and was going to bed.

With nothing better to do, Jane did just that. She was weary in body, but her mind was still active, so she got out her laptop to put on a movie. It usually helped quiet her mind by giving it something to focus on as she fell asleep. But as she lay and half-watched the movie, she kept reaching for the volume to turn it down. She couldn’t hear the difference between normal night city sounds and someone breaking in with the movie too loud, so she turned the volume way down, almost inaudible. It helped, as the background sounds clarified into normality, and she felt sure she’d be able to hear danger.

But as she lay in bed, listening to everything, she still felt vulnerable, so she kicked off the covers and strode over to her closet, crouching in front of her gun safe.

She stared at it for a long time. She hadn’t really taken it out except for recreational purposes since the first few nights she was in DC and had slept with it on her nightstand. But now that she was no longer a cop and a gun wasn’t part of her daily uniform, she had learned to live without its reassuring weight at her hip, or so she thought.

Its presence on the small bedside table was enough to allow Jane to fall asleep. And though it was uneasy and restless, it was enough to bring the morning around faster than it would have if she’d been lying awake.

* * *

 

Maura was, perhaps, somewhat irritated that Jane was still giving her a bit of a brush off when it came to their conversations. For a day or so, Jane had seemed like herself, but with the weekend’s arrival, she had resorted to short replies (Jane was always relatively concise in her responses, but this was beyond simple brevity) that didn’t disclose too much. As much as Maura wanted to pry, to ensure Jane was having a productive and healthy recovery period from her break-up, she was also working on her boundaries.

She’d been seeing a therapist when it was appropriate for most of her adult life. Mental health was high on Maura’s list of priorities and she never hesitated to make the necessary appointments. Her visits sometimes increased in number for a while, like after the time Jane shot herself, or after both times Maura had almost been murdered by two different serial killers, or after the time Jane jumped off a bridge or, most recently, after she’d been kidnapped by Jane’s police academy nemesis and, while they’d eased up from weekly to monthly by now, it was still a very important regular appointment to keep.

This past week, she’d made an extra office visit to discuss her inappropriate feelings for Jane. She didn’t want to destroy their friendship, she wanted to be a good friend, and she hoped this would be a temporary struggle. Currently, she was working on maintaining a healthy distance and, even though she was curious to know how Jane was doing, she knew it was important to allow Jane to come to her when she was ready and that, in the meantime, Maura would have to find ways to occupy herself. Besides, as her therapist reminded her, Maura couldn’t control anyone’s behavior but her own.

When it came to her own life choices, things were made much easier when Angela tapped a business card on the kitchen island on Saturday morning.

“What’s this?” Maura asked. She was seated in one of the barstools, reviewing the latest batch case notes Kent had emailed her.

“After you left the bar, last night, someone was asking about you.”

“Oh?”

“ _She_ wanted to know if you were seeing anyone,” Angela paused, watching Maura’s reaction. “And I said you weren’t.” She pushed the card across the countertop. “She seems very lovely.”

Maura accepted the business card and glanced down at the name. Gabriela Cruz. The job described below her name was a corporate executive position, so she was likely of a similar economical status to Maura. Not that it mattered for a first date, but it was impossible for Maura to not include the observation in her assessment of this woman. Was it possibly the same Gabriela from that night at Merch? The probability of two separate woman with the same first name actively seeking out Maura’s attention within such a short timeframe was incredibly low.

“If it’s the same woman I’m thinking of, she is quite lovely, yes. Thank you,” Maura said, already considering what she might say in a phone call with Gabriela. Did she want to go out with her? Was she interested in pursuing something beyond a single hookup? At most, Maura knew she definitely needed to move forward.

“Are you going to call her?” Angela asked, using a tone Maura had heard plenty of times when the Rizzoli matriarch was hunting for information from her children. It somehow felt both invasive and inclusive at the same time.

Maura considered her schedule for the day. There really wasn’t one beyond her usual texting and word games with Jane. But those weren’t anything to plan the rest of her life around if she was honestly attempting a bit of distance. “Well, I don’t have any particular plans for this evening, so I think I might.” And to prove to herself that she was serious, she went ahead and entered the phone number into her contacts.

“Maybe I’ll make plans to stay at Ron’s tonight.”

“Angela, that’s not necessary.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your romantic evening!”

“It’s a first date and I haven’t even called her, yet.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” Angela quickly retrieved a handful of items from the fridge and then vanished out the door to the guest house.

Maura decided she didn’t need to call, right away.

She sent a text, instead.

* * *

 

Jane was up early, but only because her sleep had been so restless it seemed pointless to try to continue. She figured she would spend the day trying to relax, since she didn’t really have plans, but apparently, this was an impossible task.

Maura had told her plenty of times that she didn’t know how to relax, but this was one of the few times Jane actually felt it. Nothing she tried to do could hold her interest for very long. She had no desire to leave her apartment, because even thinking about that made her feel exhausted, but she also couldn’t stand being in it, either. There was nothing to do. She couldn’t find anything she felt like watching, she couldn’t concentrate on her puzzles, and she hadn’t been able to muster anything more than the word “Sorry” in _Words with Friends_ with Maura, which she hoped Maura understood was more than a game move. She just didn’t have any other words to offer for why she couldn’t seem to carry on a conversation since last night. Every time she tried to put how she was feeling into words, she felt herself lock up.

But as her day went on and she was increasingly faced with only her thoughts as all potential distractions were discarded, Jane began to disentangle the coiled mess of emotion that was making her wear her gun on her hip all day.

She’d had every reason to be cautious the previous night. She was a woman on her way home alone, and a man had appeared to be following her. She knew better than most people how often scenarios like that ended in tragedy. But she had absolutely misjudged his intentions, she had listened to her gut and her gut had been solidly _wrong_. That didn’t happen often, or at least a gut feeling that strong hadn’t happened that Jane could remember.

And more than that, she’d drawn her gun at him, even though she hadn’t been carrying one, in the moment, her impulse had been very real. Still, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have fired, not right away. But she’d been in plenty of situations where the ability to assess a situation in a flash and fire quickly had saved lives. What if her intuition had steered her so wrong that she’d really hurt someone?

The gun bothered her more than the fear of being attacked had. Both how _naked_ she had felt reaching for something that wasn’t there, and how much she felt she had needed it when she hadn’t been in danger at all. She was a civilian now. She wasn’t supposed to need to carry a weapon to feel safe.

Her sense of safety had been compromised. Part of the whole reason she had moved here was that everything about it was supposed to be safer. She didn’t have enemies all over DC, because now she was working on the same side as the only DC locals she’d clashed with in the past. She wasn’t putting her life on the line every day. She wasn’t supposed to have moments where her gut might instruct her to shoot someone to defend herself. And yet, it had, and it had been natural to reach for her weapon, and she had known what to do, until the moment the gun wasn’t there.

You could take the girl out of the police force, but you couldn’t take the police force out of the girl. She knew that transitioning to civilian life was difficult for a lot of people. She had seen Casey’s struggle firsthand, or at least as much of it as he would let her see, and though he had been struggling primarily with his new physical limitations, underneath that, Jane was aware that he was also grappling with being forced to leave the military life that he loved before he was ready. Jane had felt ready to leave at the time she’d made her decision, but now she wondered why, exactly, she had left.

She knew one major factor had been Angela. Though her mother was right, she hadn’t asked Jane to move away, Jane had left because she loved her mother, and seeing how much her job hurt her was too difficult. It was a sacrifice that, at the time, she thought she was willing to make, her rewarding career for her mother’s peace of mind.

And deep down, somewhere Jane didn’t like to look, she knew that she’d left Boston because she was afraid, too. Alice Sands had made her feel unsafe in the city she loved, and she’d left to escape that creeping feeling that lingered around her there, like she was always being hunted. But on the train, she’d mistaken that kid for the boy in the sewer, and now she knew, she had brought Alice Sands to DC with her. She didn’t live in Boston, she lived in Jane, and Jane still hadn’t figured out how to live with that.

Jane’s day dragged on, and as she ate microwaved noodles and flipped channels continually into the evening, Jane faced the biggest truth of all.

She was extremely unhappy in DC and at the FBI Academy, and try as she might, she could come up with no reason why she should stay there. She was so miserable that she didn’t even care about the hit to her pride that she would take when she admitted to everyone in her life that she just couldn’t do it.

And then, a brainwave. She glanced at her watch. Not quite nine. Not too early, not for him. She clicked his name in her contacts.

Two rings, then, “Jane?” his tone gentle, as if he already sensed her mood.

“Hey, Korsak,” she said, skipping the pleasantries before even remembering them. “I was wondering if you knew anything else about that FBI liaison job in Boston.”


	12. Chapter 12

“No-no-no wait. Let _me_ pack that shelf.”

“Jane.” The warning in Maura’s voice was accompanied by a hand on her upper arm, a gentle enough grasp, but nonetheless enough to stop Jane’s trajectory toward the mover currently wrapping Jane’s baseball memorabilia--or what she had accrued after the fire in her apartment, anyway. The man glanced back at the two of them, but at Maura’s reassuring smile, turned back to his work after a moment.

“But those are _important_ ,” Jane protested in a quiet voice.

“Yes, I know. That’s why we’re paying professionals to safely pack them.”

“I packed my stuff when I moved here, and I did fine,” Jane muttered.

“You did,” Maura agreed, “But there were some close calls, and far too many overly-heavy boxes.”

“I figured if I could lift them, UPS could.”

“If you’re moving into my home, you’re moving into it my way,” Maura insisted. 

“For now,” Jane couldn’t help adding, and Maura smiled and shook her head.

“The agreement was that we’d hire the moving company so your mother wouldn’t try to come down here and help you pack.” 

Jane dropper her shoulders in defeat. “I know.”

Maura checked her watch, “Well, they only have this last room to pack up. Why don’t we go get something to eat while they finish?”

“Alright,” Jane sighed.

In the week between when Jane decided to come back to Boston and moving day itself, she’d only had time to take care of the most basic parts of her life. She’d found a subletter for her apartment, a now-former student who was going through a breakup and wanted to move out of her apartment fast. She’d called Cameron, and though their conversation wasn’t intimate, she told him she was unhappy, was moving back to Boston, and asked if he could help her find someone who could finish out the semester for her. He was kind enough to agree to find someone, and in the brief exchange that followed, she thanked him for the opportunity and apologized that it hadn’t been the right fit for her, and he’d apologized for his role in bringing her to DC. Jane understood what he meant. She hadn’t moved there for him, but the possibility of a safe career and a husband falling into her lap with one move had made it seem more serendipitous than it was. 

And, of course, Jane had called Maura, and Maura had hired a moving service and had convinced Jane that moving into her house, at least at first, was the easiest plan. Jane hadn’t needed much convincing, since she’d figured she’d have to stay with family for a while anyway while she found her own place. Maura had the most room and was the least likely to drive her to insanity.

And she was looking forward to living at Maura’s house for a little while, because Maura’s house was where her family gathered. Maura’s house was home.

Besides, right now she missed her mother enough that she thought she’d be able to tolerate living with her for a least a month.

Before she found a new apartment, though, she had a lot to figure out. Korsak had learned more about the position, and it sounded like the FBI was planning to do its hiring from within BPD, from personnel Sergeant or higher. The hiring process was to officially start in a year, since the funding for the position wasn’t available for another two years. On top of that, applicants for the position were required to have a Bachelor’s degree, and while Jane knew that plenty of perfectly qualified applicants to all sorts of positions didn’t fulfill every requirement, she also knew that her gender was already enough of a setback in this field. If she were going to have a fighting chance at getting this position, she had to finish her degree and not only get back to work at BPD, but get a promotion, all in less than two years.

She’d talked enough about it with Maura to know that it was at least plausible to finish the classwork in time, especially if she went to BCU and enrolled in new quarter beginning in April.

It was a small window of time to get everything in order, but Maura insisted on helping her with the admission process, something Jane actively resisted, at first, but Maura reminded her of the fact that Jane had already proven she was capable of being accepted to the university. So, really, she was just helping bring everything up to date. It still felt a little like getting a hand-out she didn’t deserve, but if Jane wanted to apply for the liaison job, she didn’t really have a choice.

For the moment, though, she was still in DC, taking one last walk through her neighborhood before it stopped being hers, even if her sense of belonging to it was only ever minimal. There were things that she noticed that made her a little sad she hadn’t taken more time to actively explore the area, like the sports memorabilia shop two blocks south. It was in the opposite direction of the train she took to work, so there hadn’t been much reason to spend time in that part of the neighborhood.

They were headed this way because there was an Asian fusion restaurant that had been on Maura’s list of “Things to Check Out” for a while and it was Jane who recommended they visit it before making the final trip back to Boston. Jane passed a pub she’d never known was so close to her apartment and peered inside wistfully. It reminded her of the Dirty Robber. But then, she brightened, because she remembered she was going to be in the _real_ Dirty Robber soon enough.

Though Jane’s neighborhood may have been more interesting than she’d ever realized when she tried to live there, she accepted no substitutes. She belonged in Boston, and she was going back there, hopefully for good this time.

The food was good, but knowing she was about to leave made the whole experience surreal. Watching her apartment slowly disappear into boxes and into a moving cube had been odd, though she was leaving much of her furniture behind. The student who was subletting didn’t have furniture of her own, and Jane would be living in Maura’s already well furnished guest room. She figured she could come down when the lease officially ended and pick up her furniture when she actually had a place to move it into. Because the apartment wasn’t emptying fully as it was packed up, it didn’t feel quite as significant as the final dinner with Maura in her neighborhood.

Even more surreal was the fact that she was going to go from seeing Maura every two weeks to seeing Maura every day. Jane was excited about this prospect, but also kind of nervous, because living with Maura added a layer to their interactions that was different. She’d never been good at living with her family, and had always functioned much better with her own space. Maura pointed out that Jane would have her own space, and even offered to put her office furniture in storage if Jane needed to have another room for herself. Jane wasn’t sure if this would help, though. She was worried that living with Maura would somehow change the dynamic between them, would create friction, like it had when she and Frankie had to share his bachelor pad. Though, admittedly, much of that came from sharing a bathroom, and she would have her own at Maura’s.

Jane knew she had enough in savings to be able to get a lease somewhere else if living with Maura and next door to her mother (the much bigger source of her hesitation) ended up driving her as crazy as she feared it might. But right now, mostly, she couldn’t wait to see them both every day.

By the time they had finished their last meal in DC together, complete with the clinking of wine glass to beer bottle and a toast to Boston, there wasn’t anything left to do but walk back to Jane’s apartment. All of her belongings had been removed, and the subletter was there, waiting for the key. All she had left to grab was her and Maura’s overnight bags in the bedroom, the bags they would be flying home to Boston with. With nothing better to do, they headed to the airport early, ready to fly back on Maura’s regular flight home. Or, what used to be Maura’s regular flight.

Because Jane was travelling with her gun, locked up in a case in her luggage, she’d had to check her bag, and subsequently, got bored pretty quickly at the airport with only her phone to entertain her. Though Maura was game to play a few rounds of _Words With Friends_ while they waited, she also had reading she needed to do, information to look over for whatever case she was missing while helping Jane move. In consolation, Maura sent her off with money to get snacks and coffee, and Jane drank a half-caf latte and tried not to drain her battery watching funny animal compilations on YouTube. These were her ideal go-to “waiting for stuff” videos because they amused her and, if anyone happened to get nosy enough to look at her phone screen, they didn’t give away any personal details about who she was.

By the time they’d actually boarded, Jane wished she’d remembered to get her sudoku book out of the bag she’d checked. Her phone was less fun in airplane mode, and though she could play sudoku on it, she had accidentally hit the wrong number enough times to make her not trust it. And by the time the airplane doors had closed, she wished she’d used the bathroom one last time before getting on.

To distract herself, Jane flipped through the in-flight magazine. Next to her, Maura was ensuring that her seat and tray table were properly positioned. Maura had the middle seat, which they both hated, but Jane had longer legs, so she’d taken the aisle. She was grateful for it now, because she knew as soon as she was allowed, she was going to be heading for that tiny airplane bathroom. An aisle seat was practically a head start.

She half-watched their flight attendant perform the safety demonstration, and that nagging feeling of familiarity as she watched her surface. She was pretty sure it was the same flight attendant she’d had last time she’d flown this route, but there was something else. Hadn’t she seen her in Boston, too, somewhere?

But once the safety demonstration was over and the plane started moving toward the runway, Jane turned back to her magazine, while Maura adjusted the light and air settings above them. Jane’s magazine was illuminated as Maura muttered at her not to strain her eyes. And as they gained altitude, Jane eventually managed to get quite engrossed in an article comparing different Kansas City barbeque restaurants. The descriptions of the food made it interesting enough for Jane to savor the article, to the point that she almost missed when the seatbelt light turned off.

Jane walked briskly down the aisle toward the galley. The bathrooms were right next to where the flight crew prepared the beverage carts and as Jane approached the door, her flight attendant smiled and greeted her, a habitual, service-industry greeting that nonetheless felt genuine. That feeling of recognition lingered.

Maneuvering and keeping her balance in the bathroom took enough of Jane’s physical focus that it wasn’t until she was washing her hands that she started actively trying to place the flight attendant. She thought about what feelings she associated with her. They were good feelings, definitely good, in fact they were _erotic_ \--

Jane opened the bathroom door and found herself face to face with the flight attendant at the very moment the memory surfaced. “I know you,” she blurted, but stopped herself before she could embarrass herself further.

The flight attendant smiled and seemed to stand up straighter. It made her ample chest expand. “Yes, I think we’ve flown together before, haven’t we, sweetheart? I’m sorry, let me back up so you can get back to your seat.” She reversed her cart until Jane was able to slip past it. Jane hurried down the aisle, cheeks burning, and slumped low into her seat next to Maura.

Maura noticed and took out her earbuds. She looked at Jane and laughed, “What happened? Did someone walk in on you?” She leaned in close so Jane could actually hear her.

“No,” Jane hissed, “I _just_ recognized the flight attendant.” She raised her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Oh, have you flown with her before?” Maura’s tone was conversational.

“Maura! I... _recognized her_ ,” she repeated for emphasis, and when Maura appeared confused, Jane put her mouth close and whispered, “From your _erotica_.”

“Ohh,” Maura replied, seeming pleased with herself. “I must have captured her well,” she whispered back at Jane.

“ _Maura_ ,” Jane scolded, “It’s inappropriate,” she grumbled.

And abruptly, the flight attendant was next to them, grinning down at Jane, “Can I get you something to drink, hun?”

“I, uh,” Jane couldn’t quite make eye contact, but jerked her gaze back up once she realized where it had settled, “Coffee, please.”

Maura reached across Jane to get the flight attendant’s attention, “Please don’t give her anything caffeinated.” To Jane, she suggested, “Why don’t you try the Bloody Mary mix?”

Jane side-eyed her sourly, “Without vodka? Gross,” was her only comment, then she addressed the flight attendant, “Ginger Ale, please.” The flight attendant was smirking. It made color rise to Jane’s cheeks, and she shrank in her chair a little as the flight attendant distributed drinks. Jane mumbled her thanks, while Maura was much more emphatic. Jane was sure she was still blushing as she glanced to see if the flight attendant had passed and was faced with her curvy hips. But Jane didn’t want to consider her curvy hips, or her round ass, or her impressive bust, because all three had featured prominently in Maura’s erotic vignette. So had her soft lips, and deft fingers...Jane shook the thoughts away. “I feel like I’m violating her,” she whispered at Maura.

“Why? Because you couldn’t pull your eyes out of her cleavage to order a beverage?” Maura’s tone was clearly amused, and she wasn’t whispering.

“ _Shh_!” Jane shushed her. “It’s your fault,” she muttered, “Once I realized who she was, I couldn’t stop picturing all the things you wrote about her doing. And about doing to her.”

Maura looked very smug, “Then I suppose I’ve done my job well.”

“But she’s a _person_!”

Maura laughed, “Writers borrow people all the time. You’re probably the only person on the planet who will recognize her. I’m doing her no harm by creating a fictional likeness to serve a narrative purpose.”

“Orgasm isn’t _narrative purpose_ , but okay,” Jane muttered back. She pulled the magazine back out of the seat pocket and resumed reading. Or she tried to. It was difficult with Maura chuckling next to her. Jane shot her a sideways glare. “I am _very_ interested in finishing this article, thank you.” 

“It’s perfectly natural to have a reaction to erotic literature.”

“Yes, I know. You’ve been clear about that, _doctor_.”

The rest of the flight passed rather quickly, and before too long, they had disembarked, grabbed Jane’s luggage, and a short cab ride later, were pulling up in front of Maura’s house.

The house was dark and quiet, exactly the opposite of the welcome Jane had received around Christmas, though of course, it was very early in the morning, or very late at night, depending on one’s perspective. She hadn’t been expecting a crowd, really. Maura had set down her purse and was flipping through her mail while Jane looked around Maura’s living room, grinning. It was her living room now, too.

Then, motion caught her eye, and she had only milliseconds to be terrified by the figure rising up from the couch before her mother’s voice bellowed, “Janie! You’re home!”

“Jeez, Ma!” Jane caught the breath that had been momentarily startled out of her, then accepted a long, strong hug from her mother. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

“You act like you don’t want to me to make a fuss, but if I wasn’t here, you’d be knocking down my door, making sure I wasn’t bedridden.”

It was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t too far from the truth. Angela constantly inserted herself into the lives of her children and it was often met with resistance. But all of the Rizzoli kids knew that if their mother wasn’t expressing interest in their personal business, something was usually off.

“Well, now you can get some sleep.”

“I won’t argue that,” Angela yawned. She squeezed Maura’s arm in greeting as she passed, then said, “Oh, Maura, Kent dropped that folder by for you. Says it was new information and he wants to discuss it with you tomorrow. Good night, girls.”

“Thank you, Angela. Good night,” Maura replied, and then Angela walked out the back door toward her guest house.

Maura finished sorting her mail and pulled down two wine glasses from the cupboard. She poured a few mouthfuls of wine into each while Jane took a seat at the kitchen island. “Geez, Ma scared the hell outta me with that Crypt Keeper impression.”

“I’m not sure what that is, but I’m sure it’s an unflattering comparison to make.” Maura passed a glass to Jane.

“It’s--wait, really? You don’t know the Crypt Keeper?”

“You can rectify it later. I know it’s late, but we’re back in Boston together. We have to drink wine. It’s basically tradition, and I know you’re big on tradition.”

Jane chuckled, “Am I?” They clinked glasses and Jane heard the _cin cin_ in her head, drilled into her from all the big Italian family functions she’d been to in her life. She sipped a mouthful, tried to savor the experience, and swallowed. She caught Maura’s eye as they lowered their glasses together. The experience reminded Jane of communion. Maybe Maura had a point about Jane and traditions. “Thank you,” she told Maura before tipping back her glass and allowing the rest of the wine to drain down her throat. Maura’s last sip was more refined, but was over almost as quickly.

“I wish it could’ve been a longer celebration, but I still need to shower before bed.”

“Of course,” Jane nodded. It was a given that Maura would be attempting to maintain her sleep cycle by rising at her normal hour. Jane didn’t know how she did it.

“Want to go for a run with me tomorrow morning?” Maura asked as she rinsed their wine glasses before placing them in the dishwasher.

“You mean in six hours? No, thanks. I’m sleeping in.”

“That’s good. Try to relax tomorrow,” Maura encouraged. She closed the dishwasher and turned to smile at Jane, “ _Mi casa es su casa_.” 

“Thanks, Maura,” Jane couldn’t come up with anything witty, and she liked that Maura was clearly so happy to have her there.

She opted to follow Maura upstairs, each of them carrying their bag from the plane. They parted in the hallway with a one-armed hug, bidding each other goodnight. The whole experience of moving out of her apartment in a week had left Jane feeling drained. She wheeled her leopard bag into the guest room, which was now her room, and popped it open on her bed.

It contained mostly clothes and toiletries, necessities for the next few days until the rest of her belongings arrived in the moving cube. But it also held a few items she hadn’t wanted to travel without, including the recast police awards she’d earned, a Ted Williams autographed baseball, and her gun.

She placed the baseball and the plaques on display as well as she could on the small writing desk that was placed next to the dresser, and put the gun, still in its locked case, on the top shelf of her closet. Too tired to do much with the other things she’d packed, Jane fished out her pajamas and toothbrush and got ready for bed.

But once she was in bed, she found that, despite her exhaustion, she was wired. It hadn’t actually been that long ago that she’d drank the big cup of coffee at the DC airport, and even though it had been a half-caf at Maura’s insistence, it probably was what was keeping her awake. She tried to do some sudoku puzzles, but she was so mentally tired she couldn’t concentrate on them. She even considered masturbation to simply clear her head, but that brought back thoughts of the flight attendant, which dissuaded her. Ultimately, she swung her legs out of bed and began looking for something to read.

Maura had removed many of her personal items from the guest room, aside from furnishings, to make room for Jane’s belongings, but she had left a small stack of books on one of the shelves beneath the bedside table. Jane scanned them, flipped a few of them over. They were mostly true crime novels, undoubtedly works Maura had read to research the genre for her writing. She had probably left them in here knowing Jane might enjoy them. Jane knew she probably would, but she didn’t think reading about murder would help her fall asleep. She’d be up all night reading until she’d solved the mystery.

Quietly, Jane padded down the hallway and down the stairs to look at what books Maura might have elsewhere in the house. The living room was full of packed bookshelves, everything from TJ’s children’s books to bound printed medical journal archives suitable for university libraries. But as Jane poked through the shelves, nothing really caught her eye.

She was beginning to wonder if she should try a stronger nightcap than the wine when her eyes fell on the manila folder on Maura’s desk, the one Angela said Kent had dropped off.

Curiosity got the better of Jane, and she took the folder over to the kitchen island and set it down. She put on the tea kettle and started to look through the documents. There weren’t a lot, but without Maura to explain a lot of the scientific terms, Jane had to resort to Google. She’d say one thing for Maura, she was certainly quicker than Google.

Jane brewed a cup of chamomile tea while she made sense of the lab results and weighed the significance of the other evidence collected by the detectives. By the time she had finished her cup of tea, she was returning the folder to Maura’s desk. She opened the drawers until she found a sticky note, then scribbled her hunch down on it. Jane set her mug in the sink and headed upstairs. She slid into the bed, with its subtly scented soft sheets, and this time, Jane was asleep in minutes.

Not nearly enough time had passed when Jane heard the doorbell. She woke up, just barely, but her room was far enough away that the sound hadn’t jarred her too much. She groaned and pushed her face back into her pillows. This bed was _so_ comfortable, something she attributed to it being her first official night back in Boston.

By the third time the doorbell rang, though, followed by loud knocking that Jane could hear even from her bedroom, she groaned, kicked off her blankets, and started striding downstairs. She was irritated, but apparently no one else was going to see who was at the door. When she reached the foyer, it was clear that the reason no one else answered was because no one else was home. The coffee maker wasn’t even on, which meant Maura was probably still out for her morning run, because Jane knew Maura didn’t believe in coffee before morning exercise, something they’d bickered over for years.

Once she was at the door, she peeked through the side window, then groaned.

“What?” she demanded, as she opened the door, just enough to peek through.

“Come on, Jane, I don’t have time to mess around. Is Ma here?” Tommy was dressed in work clothes and an overcoat, looking harried, hand on TJ’s shoulder.

“I don’t think so. Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, it’s like seven-thirty.”

“I _know_ what time it is, I meant that it’s too damn early for you to be beating down the door.”

“I rang the bell. And I need someone to watch TJ because I have a re-piping to finish and he’s sick.”

Jane looked down at her nephew, who was bundled up in his winter coat. “Fine, come in.” She shuffled backward, using the door to block the fact that she was barely dressed in her boxer shorts and holey tank top. “Give me a second to put some clothes on.” She dashed back upstairs and pulled on the sweatpants and hoodie she’d packed, then met Tommy and TJ in the living room.

“He doesn’t have a fever or anything, but he says his stomach hurts. Maybe you could have Maura take a look at him?”

“She’s not your personal doctor!”

“She told me to always ask her anything when it comes to TJ!”

Jane couldn’t really argue, because having a professional’s opinion over her brother’s kid was a good idea. Instead, she shooed him away. “Go to work. I’ll keep an eye on him until the doctor is in.”

“Thanks.” Tommy helped TJ out of his coat and hung it on the back of the nearest kitchen island barstool. “Feel better, buddy,” he said, giving TJ a hug before ruffling his hair.

“I’ll try,” was TJ’s despondent reply. He shuffled to the couch and sat down as his father let himself out the front door.

“So, stomach ache, huh?” 

TJ shrugged. “Just woke up like this.”

Jane narrowed her eyes at him, trying to determine if this was a genuine illness or a kid who didn’t want to go to school. “How’s your head?”

“Tired.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” Jane settled on the couch next to him, then turned on the television. “Do kids still watch cartoons?”

“Yes,” TJ giggled. “Of course we do.”

Jane was just settling in with her nephew after finally locating the Cartoon Network channel on the television when Maura came back from her run.

“Oh! I didn’t think you’d be up,” Maura said as she came in the door. She was wearing her cold weather running gear, and her face was flushed. She carried an empty water bottle in her hand.

Jane looked at Maura over her shoulder, “I probably wouldn’t be, but TJ’s sick.” Maura was shucking her outermost layer of clothing.

“I see,” Maura came around to where she could look at them both. 

“Hi, Aunt Maura,” TJ greeted from the sofa, tone a bit listless.

Jane watched as Maura assessed the boy, similarly to the way she did when presented with something in the lab, but with a warmth that generally wasn’t present when performing autopsies. “Does your head hurt?”

TJ shook his head. “No.”

Maura retrieved a penlight from the drawer of her desk, then knelt in front of TJ. “Stick out your tongue?” TJ complied so Maura could examine him. “Everything looks alright in there.”

“I think I might have some medical advice,” said Jane.

Maura glanced at her. “Oh?”

“Ask him how he feels about waffles.”

TJ perked up. “I like waffles!”

“Even with your stomach ache?” Maura asked, already catching on to Jane’s strategy.

“Well,” TJ kicked his legs against the couch underneath the blanket. “I’m not really feeling _that_ bad.” He shrugged, then admitted, “I just wanted to hang out with Aunt Jane.”

At first, Maura frowned, but it quickly dissipated. “I don’t approve of truancy, but I think we can make an exception for today. _If_ ,” she stressed, “you promise you’ll go to school tomorrow.”

TJ sat up. “I promise.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely related to me,” Jane said, poking at him.

“I’ll start waffles,” Maura said, moving toward the kitchen.

“And coffee!” Jane interjected. Maura gave her an incredulous look over her shoulder, but there was a smirk on her face, too.

“What’s truancy?” TJ asked. His pronunciation was off, but it was close enough that Jane knew what he meant right away.

Maura answered first as she moved about the kitchen, sounding, as usual, like the embodiment of an encyclopedia, “Truancy is an unexcused and illegal absence from compulsory education.”

“Cutting school is technically a crime, kiddo,” Jane agreed.

“Wait,” TJ’s face was white, “I broke the law? Am I going to jail?” He stared at Jane. “You won’t let them take me, will you?”

“Well,” Jane drawled, letting the kid stew momentarily. A healthy respect for the law was a good thing to instill early, especially in Tommy’s kid. “I’m not a cop anymore, so I don’t have to arrest you…”

But before Jane could finish reassuring him, the doorbell rang. Jane wondered if Maura’s house was always this active in the mornings. She might lose her mind.

“It’s them!” TJ shrieked.

“Relax, bud,” Jane soothed, “No one is going to arrest you. You’re fine.”

But TJ still looked anxious. From the kitchen, Maura spoke, “Jane, can you get the door?”

“Sure,” she said, getting up from the couch. TJ grabbed her hand. He still looked uncertain. Jane reached down to pick him up and hoist him onto her hip, grunting as she did so. He had grown since Christmas.

Jane opened the door as TJ clung to her shoulders. There was a well-dressed woman on the doorstep, and Jane tilted her head curiously, surprised to see someone she didn’t know. The woman’s full lips faded from the delicate curve of a smile to an uncertain twitch of one. “Oh. Hello. I was looking for Maura.”

“Who is it, Jane?” Maura called from the kitchen. Jane saw the way the woman’s eyes widened, as if in recognition. 

“It’s, uh…” Jane called back, regarding the woman, “Sorry, who are you?”

“Gabriela,” she replied, but looked as though she regretted it immediately, “I’m just here to return this to Maura, but I really must be going.” She thrust a book at Jane, who adjusted her hold on TJ to grab it. TJ, perhaps feeling unsettled by being jostled or maybe just satisfied that he wasn’t about to be arrested, squirmed a little.

“You sure? She can come to the door in a minute,” Jane leaned over to set TJ down, twisting to call over her shoulder, “Gabriela’s here.”

“Oh! Right,” Maura replied, “I’ll be right there, Jane, can you watch the stove?”

“No, really, I’m late for work,” Gabriela was already backing away, “Thank you, goodbye.” She turned and strode quickly down Maura’s walk.

“She’s, uh, late for work,” Jane told Maura doubtfully as Maura joined her at the door.

“Oh, drat,” Maura muttered, “I’ll be right back. The stove,” she reminded Jane. Jane closed the door a bit reluctantly, tempted to eavesdrop, though it felt like more of a detective’s instinct than pure nosiness.

“Come on, let’s see about breakfast,” Jane told TJ, and they moved into the kitchen. Jane helped him up onto one of the island’s chairs, and then approached the range. She only needed to poke at the turkey bacon a little bit before she heard the door close, and Maura then was back inside just as the waffle maker signaled it was finished. Jane poured more batter into the machine and waited to see if Maura was going to offer any information.

She didn’t say anything about the woman at the door as she began to warm the maple syrup on the stove. The fact that it was both being warmed and not something out of a bottle shaped like Mrs. Butterworth wasn’t enough to distract Jane from wanting to know who Gabriela was. “New friend?”

“Not really,” said Maura. She took a moment to tend to the bacon, then chose her words with obvious care in front of TJ, though his attention was on the television. “She was...interested in spending some time with me. But she has reason to believe that you and I are, well, involved.”

“Like... _involved_? Why in the,” she quickly shifted her word choice in front of TJ, “heck would she think that?”

“A few weeks ago, I went to Merch. The night was uneventful, though not for lack of trying. It turned out that Alexandra and her wife assumed we were engaged in a long-distance relationship and, therefore, frightened off any potential suitors with a threat that you’d come after them.”

“How would these women even know who I am?”

“Apparently, they showed them the photo of you and a massive gun.”

“The Desert Eagle,” Jane recalled with a bit of fondness. But then she returned her attention to the conversation and realized something. “That explains the weird text I got from Alexandra.” In part, Jane was pleased that her work friends cared enough to protect someone they perceived as her partner. But on the other hand, it wasn’t true and it meant Maura may have lost out on pursuing someone who interested her. “Did you explain things to Gabrielle?”

“Gabriela,” Maura corrected. “And despite the fact that I already previously clarified that you and I are not in a romantic relationship, she was just confronted with you, in person, with a child in your arms, at my front door. So, I don’t know that any amount of explanation will erase that image from her memory.”

Jane didn’t like that she’d possibly ruined a potential relationship for Maura, especially with someone who seemed to have a decent moral compass and was statistically far less likely to be a serial killer. Even more, she hated that this woman likely thought Maura wasn’t trustworthy. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“That’s not necessary, but thank you.” Reluctantly, Jane dropped it, though it still bothered her, mostly the idea that this woman thought Maura was being unfaithful, which especially chafed given Maura’s strong opinions on the subject.

“Can I have my coffee?” TJ asked.

Jane raised her eyebrow at him. “Your coffee?”

“Yes, you _may_ have your coffee,” Maura replied.

“Uh, what?” asked Jane. She watched Maura pour hot water into a Chewbacca coffee mug, but then she noticed the scent of chocolate coming from it. 

“TJ has taken to joining me for a cup of Mexican sipping chocolate on Saturday mornings.” Maura stirred the contents of the mug as TJ watched with eager eyes.

“It’s spicy like your coffee,” he explained.

It was all almost worth getting up early for.

After breakfast, Maura headed upstairs to shower. She was disappointed, a little, about what had just happened with Gabriela. They’d been getting to know each other, texting and a few dates, for the past couple of weeks. And just before Maura had left for the weekend to help Jane move, they’d been intimate, and it had been nice, though not great. Though Maura was willing to see if it would improve, she thought their sexual connection was not particularly strong, and figured that part of their relationship would probably dissipate in a month or two. But she was hoping she’d be able to maintain a friendship with Gabriela, because they had a lot in common and really did enjoy spending time together.

But instead, she’d allowed Gabriela to believe that she was a homewrecker, and when it came down to it, Gabriela had very likely decided she just didn’t know Maura well enough to trust her word that Jane was simply her friend, not when she’d seen that picture Alexandra had showed her, and not when she’d interrupted what looked like a very domestic morning at Maura’s house.

Maura could tell that Jane had felt guilty, but she knew Jane insisting to Gabriela that she wasn’t even homosexual would be equally unconvincing after such a confusing narrative. In conclusion, there was no point in chasing Gabriela.

She allowed herself to brood a little bit in the shower, but by the time she wrapped herself in her towel, she had decided not to dwell on it, and then began to get ready to head into BPD. Kent wanted to discuss the case, so she went back downstairs, where Jane was preparing to teach TJ to play cards, to look at the file he’d left her.

As she got close, she noticed the sticky note. She didn’t think it had been there the night before, but then, she hadn’t taken a close look at the file, and she’d been tired. But as she picked up the file, she recognized the handwriting right away.

“Jane?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you look at my case file?”

“I dunno,” she said evasively.

“Then why is there a sticky note with your handwriting on it?”

“Maybe I was sleepwalking.” But there was a sparkle of mischief in Jane’s eyes.

Maura read the note, then opened the file and skimmed over the lab results and evidence. She sighed, “You’re not supposed to look at evidence like this, you’re not on the force anymore.”

“I _know_ that, that’s why I’m saying, must’ve been sleepwalking.”

Maura sighed again. Jane was admitting to no wrongdoing, but from what Maura could tell, the hunch on the note was sound. She picked up her phone and called Kent. “Hello, Kent. Can you please have the crime lab compare the soil evidence in our case to known soil samples from the Kenmore-Fenway region? And please tell Detective Rizzoli to try narrowing his search to that region as well. I’ll be in shortly.”

Maura hung up, and Jane spoke up, “Detective Rizzoli. That sounds so wrong when it’s not me.”

“Tell me about it,” Maura slid her phone into her purse. “You two will behave today?” She eyed Jane specifically.

Jane pretended to be affronted, but then subsided. “Of course. We’ll be good.”

Maura’s day wasn’t too difficult. Like the other Mondays after coming back from seeing Jane, she put in a few hours at BPD, enough to guide Frankie’s case to apprehend a suspect, and then she returned home in the afternoon. It was strange to realize as she did so that she wouldn’t have Mondays like this anymore, because she wouldn’t have to travel to see Jane. She had just gotten used to it, and now it had changed.

She usually napped after visiting BPD on Mondays, and apparently, TJ and Jane had similar plans; Jane was dozing in an armchair while TJ was tucked under a blanket on the couch. Jane woke up as Maura came in, enough to wave and smile, but they both stayed quiet so as not to wake TJ. Some of TJ’s toys were scattered around the living room, but Maura knew he could generally be relied on to clean up after himself. Jane was questionable.

Maura napped upstairs for a bit, and when she woke she thought about her typical routine, writing erotica in the evening. But for the first time in awhile, Maura wasn’t sure if she was up for it. After all, she and Jane deserved to spend some more time together.

So she helped Jane watch TJ until Tommy came to pick him up, then when Angela returned home that evening, they ate dinner together, and later that night, they had their wine and cheese and couch time together, the first official one since Jane had moved back. Though Maura’s mind nagged at her a little that she was supposed to be writing, she brushed it off. She needed this time with Jane, especially since the last few times she’d visited, they hadn’t engaged in much conversation. Jane had been moody and taciturn two weeks ago and this weekend they had been far too busy preparing to move to have much relaxation time together.

Now, though, Jane was more relaxed than Maura had seen her in awhile, and conversation flowed easily. Jane was thrilled to be back in Boston with her family, grateful to be staying in Maura’s guest room, and commented that the bed seemed so much more comfortable than she remembered. Maura decided not to disclose the fact that she’d purchased a new mattress for the guest bed in anticipation of Jane’s arrival. It was nearing time to replace the mattress anyway, in Maura’s opinion, but she wanted Jane to be comfortable. 

Secretly, it was also because she wanted Jane to stay. Jane had previously expressed resistance to the idea of living with Maura, even when she’d been displaced by the arson on her old condo. Maura know this was chiefly because of Angela being so close, but Maura had always felt it would make much more sense from an economic standpoint for Jane to live with her, given that Jane spent most of her free time at Maura’s house. And if Jane was going to be going back to school, the last thing Maura wanted was for Jane to be worrying about rent and bills, especially since the heavy course load she would be taking would leave little room for even a part time job.

Jane’s moving cube arrived the next day while Maura was working at the precinct, but the stack of boxes in the living room made it obvious that the movers had already come and gone. Jane was lounging on the sofa watching TV as Maura came in, though she immediately noticed the way Maura’s eyes lingered on the boxes. “Oh, yeah. I wasn’t sure where to put like...my kitchen stuff, and other stuff I don’t really need right now, so I just had them put it here.”

“I see,” Maura said, “I’ll find room for them in the study closet if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jane ended up helping her move them a few hours later. Maura prioritized finding space for them, because she knew their presence in her living room would drive her crazy. 

Unfortunately, Jane did not seem at all bothered by the clutter of boxes, as Maura discovered on St. Patrick’s Day morning, two days after Jane’s belongings had arrived, when she knocked on Jane’s bedroom door to see if she was ready to go running. It was a late morning run, since Maura had few obligations that day besides a night rotation at the clinic. She swallowed the pointed comment on the tip of her tongue about how furniture could perform better than boxes, but Jane seemed to read something in her expression anyway.

“Yeah, haven’t really unpacked yet,” Jane muttered. She wore leggings, exercise shorts and a sports bra and was pawing through said boxes, apparently searching for the rest of her running clothes.

Maura found a charitable response as she perched on the edge of Jane’s bed. “Well, it’s only been a few days, and you deserve a chance to relax.”

“I won’t be relaxing tonight,” Jane grinned. She was planning on going out with her brothers for the holiday. Maura would miss most of the night’s festivities due to work, but she thought she was probably okay with that. Her tolerance for loud, crowded and rowdy bars was much lower than Jane’s and her brothers’.

Angela suddenly spoke from the doorway. “You’ll trip over a box and break your neck if you come back here tonight. Why haven’t you unpacked anything?”

Jane ignored the question. “Ma, what’re you doing in my room?”

“I’m here to check on you and see your new space. This isn’t a hotel, you know, so you should really unpack. But I’m sure Maura will let you pay rent if it makes you feel better.” She winked at Maura.

“That is true,” Maura acknowledged, but caught sight of Jane’s exasperated expression, “But we certainly don’t need to discuss it now.”

“Anyway, there was a yard sale on the next block, I picked up something for your new room, help you get comfortable,” Angela continued.

Jane groaned lightly, “Ma, I don’t need anything, I have boxes of stuff in Maura’s closet I’m not even using.”

“But _this lamp_ , it reminded me of your old lamp, I had to get it for you.” Carefully, Angela maneuvered the tall standing lamp in through the bedroom doorway and placed it in the middle of the floor by Jane. “See?”

Jane looked puzzled, then her face brightened, “Yeah, it does look like that lamp from my room when I was a kid, huh? Thanks, Ma.”

“You’re welcome.” Angela pulled Jane to her, and Jane tolerated the big kiss on the cheek, even smiling a little as Angela headed back downstairs, calling behind her, “Clean your room before you go out tonight!”

It was obvious Jane was touched by the gesture, which made Maura feel guilty for her initial impulse, which was that the lamp was ugly, particularly the yellow and brown shade, probably the same shade it had in the 70s when it was obviously made. Again, she searched for tact as Jane plugged in the lamp in the corner, switching it on. “It is certainly a unique addition to the room’s decor. Very...vintage.”

Jane laughed, “I know, it’s hideous, but...I dunno. I like it.”

And in that moment, it clarified for Maura. It didn’t matter what she thought. This was Jane’s room now, and if Maura wanted Jane to live in it, she had to allow her to make it her home. She wondered if she should put her furniture in storage and allow Jane to re-furnish the space.

But no matter what, she knew Jane wouldn’t stay unless her boundaries were respected, and, ironically, in order to protect Jane’s boundaries, Maura felt that she would have to overstep her own.

She considered the best way to do so as the day went on. That evening, she had just enough time to go out to the Dirty Robber with Jane and her brothers for just a quick dinner before she had to go to the clinic.

Even though it was still early in the evening, the bar was already packed. Angela and Korsak were both working, along with much of the other regular staff. Maura had time to hang out through Frankie and Jane’s first two beers--Tommy, as the designated driver, was sticking to soda that night. 

When the time came for her to leave, she wished them a good evening and made them promise to be safe, then headed to work. The night was busy, as expected, and it was her first experience working the late shift on a major drinking holiday. There were plenty of individuals who were lucky they weren’t meeting Maura in her other job, in the autopsy lab. It was a long and busy night, and while she was pleased to be occupied, she was also very happy when it was time to clock out and head home.

It was well after midnight when Maura let herself into the house, habitually reaching for the alarm keypad, but it hadn’t been set since she’d returned to Boston with Jane. She mentally noted that they should decide if and when they wanted to use the alarm, now that they were sharing the house.

Upstairs, the door to Jane’s room was open and the “new” lamp was on in the corner (which, despite its hideous aesthetic, did cast a pleasantly warm glow), but Jane herself was sound asleep, lightly snoring, and smelling of alcohol. Maura was exhausted, but she still took the time to descend back to the kitchen and then returned with a bottle of water, which she left on the bedside table before shutting off the light and moving across the hall to her own room to shower and finally get into bed.

Since it was Saturday, Maura allowed herself to sleep a little later than she did on the weekdays, but she was still up and dressed before nine, ready to handle a bit of Rizzoli family business (something she included herself in, at this point). The night before, she’d sent a group text to each member of the Rizzoli family, excluding Jane, and requested that they please attend a meeting at her home that morning.

Angela arrived first, crossing over from the guest house and still looking tired from what she described as an “endless” shift the night before. Nina and Frankie weren’t far behind, Frankie looking pale and sweaty, clearly hungover. Nina, who like Maura had only joined the night’s festivities briefly, helped him to a chair and then joined Maura in the kitchen to assist with serving the coffee. Tommy and TJ arrived last, Tommy clearly tired, but otherwise fine.

Maura placed coffee, water, toast and fruit on the table, though everyone but Nina appeared too tired to be interested in much beyond coffee. Frankie munched delicately on toast, braving his nausea. Finally, Angela asked, “What’s this all about, Maura?”

Settling into her seat, Maura glanced toward the staircase, listening to make sure there was no sign that Jane was awake. Finally, she spoke, “I don’t know how much Jane had told each of you individually, but I believe it is common knowledge that one of the reasons she is back is to attend school and earn her bachelor’s degree.” Maura paused, making sure no one had been left out of the loop, then continued, “She’ll be taking on a rather difficult course load in order to do so. I’d like for her to have as little stress on her as possible.”

“We’d like that, too. How can we help?” Angela asked.

Maura took a breath. This wasn’t going to be easy to say. “Jane is currently staying in my guest room, obviously, and I think it would be financially prudent for her to stay there while she is a student. However, in order for her to agree to live here, I need to ensure that all of you will...respect her boundaries. She won’t be comfortable here otherwise.”

There was a momentary silence, and then Tommy asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean...well, to clarify. For example, respect her space, or give her time to herself.”

Another bewildered silence, then Frankie asked, “Does that mean she doesn’t want to hang out with us?”

“No,” Maura started, but almost immediately, she was drowned out by a barrage of questions from a genuinely confused family who honestly had no idea how boundaries worked. Nina caught her eye with a smile and a shrug, and Maura had a feeling she’d attempted this conversation once or twice herself with Frankie.

Maura sighed. “I’ll take your questions one by one.”

Jane woke up in the late morning, feeling mostly exhausted. She sat up gingerly, assessing her head and her stomach. She was mildly hungover, but not terribly, and she noticed the water bottle by her bedside. She knew she hadn’t put it there. Or, she was pretty sure she hadn’t. 

She thought back to the previous evening, which, after a certain point, was a blur of uncertainty. But she remembered enough to know that Tommy had stayed sober and gotten her home safely, so she wasn’t too worried. She was proud of him, too. Tommy had never really considered himself addicted to alcohol--the AA meetings were a parole requirement more than anything--but they had helped him know himself well enough to realize he did have a problem with alcohol, namely, that he made terrible decisions when he drank. Especially since gaining full custody of TJ, Tommy had decided that he preferred to live sober.

Jane drank the water, finishing the whole bottle in a minute or so, happy that her stomach didn’t rebel. She wondered if she’d been sick the night before. That would be embarrassing, but might explain why she wasn’t as hungover as she expected. She’d only been with her brothers, anyway, right? She remembered Nina hanging out for a few drinks. Had she seen anyone else?

Maybe she would ask Tommy once she was a little more awake. For now, though, she put on clean pajamas, taking off the slept-in clothes from the night before, and maneuvered downstairs in search of coffee. She was pretty sure her stomach could handle that, maybe a light breakfast. It was Saturday, there was a decent chance Maura would be around to help her with that. She probably knew how to cook some science-y hangover cure according to nutritionists or something.

As she started down the stairs, she heard conversation. It was indistinct, probably her mom talking to Maura. Might be nice for them both to dote on her this morning. She shuffled into the kitchen as she began to realize that there were male voices, too, and abruptly, everyone fell silent as she came into view.

Her entire family was sitting around Maura’s dining room table, and they were all staring at her. Jane felt the undeniable sense that they had just been talking about her, and eyed them uncertainly.

Finally, Tommy stood up, “Well, TJ and I better be going. Thanks for breakfast, Maura. Jane, I’ll see you later. Er, that is, if you want me to?”

“What?” Jane replied, but Tommy was already helping TJ into his jacket.

“Come on, let’s get you back into bed,” Nina coaxed Frankie to his feet. Jane was almost relieved to see he looked worse off than she felt.

“No, I’m gonna go to the gym, I have to sweat out the hangover,” Frankie protested weakly.

Nina rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness to it, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s happening today,” she said sweetly. She nodded an acknowledgement to Maura, then to Jane, “Glad to see you’re on your feet.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“Great time last night. We’ll hang out soon. Um. Right?” Frankie asked, but before Jane could answer, Nina was herding him out the door.

“What?” Jane asked again.

“I’m just gonna go...back to my house. Yeah. Um.” Angela wandered out the door to the courtyard without another word, leaving Jane alone with Maura.

“How are you feeling?” Maura asked, “Are you up for some breakfast?”

“Uh. Sure.” Jane took a seat at the kitchen island, feeling cold.

What on earth had she done last night to make everyone in her family flee at the sight of her? Gotten sick? Gotten violent? Gotten...inappropriate? One time, when she was a senior in high school, Tommy and some friends had shoplifted a bottle of cheap vodka and he’d gotten so drunk that he’d attempted to put a move on their school librarian, Ms. Chastain. It hadn’t been particularly aggressive, but he definitely planted an unwanted kiss on her only to then immediately vomit into an open card catalog.

But Jane wasn’t really an amorous drunk. Loud and obnoxious, sure. But she wasn’t the type to--

“I want to talk to you, when you’re a little more...clearheaded,” Maura said carefully.

“Sure,” Jane replied, but then a wave of panic crested over her.

_Oh, God_. Had she tried to kiss Maura last night?


	13. Chapter 13

Jane felt like it took forever for Maura to cook breakfast that morning, which meant she had several minutes to ruminate on her night, especially since Maura herself wasn’t being particularly chatty. Jane tried to remember why she thought it was possible she had kissed Maura the previous night, but it slipped away, dreamlike, into the haze of the night’s alcohol-soaked experience. She only knew that it seemed like the most likely explanation for her family’s awkward avoidance and Maura’s need to have a serious conversation first thing in the morning when Jane was still partly hungover.

But after the initial thought had surfaced and Jane had been horrified by her own drunken behavior, Jane realized that her gut didn’t quite agree with her detective logic’s conclusion. She could’ve done any number of ridiculous things to make her family act strangely, and maybe Maura’s awkward demeanor was because she’d had a late night, too. Still, there was something wiggling in the back of her mind, something with Maura, when Jane had been very drunk, that she suspected she owed an apology for.

As she pulled out the eggs to start on breakfast, Maura handed Jane a cold can of ginger ale, a staple in her household to have on hand in case TJ had a stomachache. Jane eyed the coffee machine, but complied, starting on the can to appease Maura as her mind wandered back to St. Patrick’s Day. It was hard to be sure what Jane didn’t remember about her night, and Jane tried to retrace it, allowing herself to remember organically instead of trying to prompt or force anything, the way she’d learned to interview compliant witnesses.

It had started out with herself, Frankie, Tommy and Maura at the Dirty Robber, until Maura had to go work her rotation at the clinic. It was pretty crowded at the bar even early on, and though they had intended to do some bar-hopping, they’d ended up staying there all night, reluctant to move on because they’d managed to snag their usual booth and knew they’d be jostling for space at other locations. It suited Jane fine, for the most part, since Angela was far too busy to bother them, and having Korsak nearby made Jane feel safe enough to let loose, even amid such chaos.

She’d spent much of the evening just chatting with her brothers, though not about anything intimate, since most conversation was carried on by shouting at each other across the booth. Which also suited Jane fine, since she didn’t particularly want to talk about DC with them, or about moving back. She just wanted to enjoy hanging out with her little brothers, and Frankie’s less lurid work tales--the kinds that could be told in a public bar--or Tommy’s stories about raising TJ were the ideal conversation topics for Jane.

Nina showed up an hour or so after Maura had left for work, and though she didn’t stay too long, she had murder stories of her own to share, as well as commiserations with Jane over how difficult Frankie could be to live with, which he took in stride. At least, until Tommy started adding examples from their childhood, then Nina steered the conversation away before it could lead to actual bickering.

Then, it was just Jane and her brothers laughing about movies from their childhood for awhile. But there had been other people they knew who surfaced during various parts of the evening. She remembered that on her way to the bathroom she’d run into Alexandra and Julie at one point. Jane had been pretty drunk, but she still thanked them for keeping an eye on Maura at the bar so many weeks ago, just because it seemed like the polite thing to do.

“Must be nice to be back home with Maura, huh?” Alexandra’s arm was draped over the back of Julie’s chair.

“Yeah, it really is,” Jane tried to coax her brain into coming up with a subtle way to reveal that she and Maura were not together, but couldn’t, “Real nice. I missed her, and Boston.”

“Well, we’re glad you two managed to weather the distance. Not every couple can handle it. We were rooting for you.” Julie’s smile was warm, hazy with her buzz.

“Thanks.” It wasn’t so bad, really, that the two of them thought she and Maura were together. It was kind of like conversations with Giovanni--the lie somehow made interaction easier. She knew she should correct them somehow, so that they wouldn’t impede Maura’s dating life in the future, but ultimately decided she was too drunk to attempt it now. Maybe Maura should handle it, since Alexandra was technically only _her_ coworker now.

She’d talked about Maura more that night, she knew, but not with Alexandra and Julie. She’d talked about her with Frankie and Tommy, sure, but there was something else.

But then, the memory surfaced. Later that night, Gabriela had come in. Jane remembered telling her brothers, in brief, that she had dumped Maura, and at Frankie’s half-coherent encouragement, she confronted Gabriela.

But in spite of Frankie’s tone, Jane didn’t want her confrontation to be aggressive. Sure, she was upset that Gabriela thought that Maura had been dishonest with her, but she also could understand why she’d jumped to that conclusion. Instead, she decided she needed to convince Gabriela that nothing was going on between herself and Maura.

“I’m not even a lesbian, you know,” she remembered slurring at Gabriela.

“Right,” Gabriela had replied, “Well, whatever works for you guys, I guess.”

“No, I mean…” Jane struggled with how to express her friendship. “I love Maura. But like, not like that, we’re just best friends, and I’m not gay. Besides, she’s not into me. She’d tell me if she were.”

“Uh huh,” Gabriela’s voice was heavily skeptical, “Listen, you don’t have to explain yourselves to me.”

“No, I just...I don’t wanna mess this up for Maura.” But at that point, Jane remembered her mother steering her back to her table, to Gabriela’s obvious relief.

Okay. That was a little embarrassing. But it was nothing for her whole family to treat her like a pariah over, especially given that Frankie was the primary source of encouragement at the time.

Most of the rest of the night was spent getting progressively less coherent with Frankie, while Tommy laughed at them. She remembered Tommy helping her into her house, and halfway up the stairs before Jane managed to convince him that she was fine and he could leave. She was pretty sure she didn’t go to bed right away, but she wobbled outside her bedroom door for a moment, indecisive. She wanted to see Maura. She was so happy and grateful to have her in her life, to be staying at her house, that the impulse overtook her, and she was lurching down the hall, a steadying hand against the wall.

Maura wasn’t in her bedroom. Jane sighed, then headed back to her own room, where she lay down and crashed.

Jane finished her can of ginger ale as Maura plated the fried eggs and bacon with a side of wheat toast. She was relieved that most of the night had come back to her, and that nothing appeared to have happened with Maura that she could recall. But it left her even more confused. Why had the thought surfaced in the first place? She hadn’t been heading to Maura’s room that night with any amorous intentions. She’d just wanted to see her, even if it meant waking her up, and Jane thought of the excuse of asking if Maura had any ibuprofen in the house, since Jane knew she was allergic to it and it was a reasonable question.

She’d missed Maura that night, and in her drunken state, visiting Maura’s bedroom had been an impulse she couldn’t dissuade. That was all Jane could be sure of.

Maura leaned on the other side of the counter, “Did you finish your ginger ale?”

Jane picked up the can and drained the rest of it. “Yep,” she said after setting it down. “Can I have coffee now?”

Maura served her a cup of coffee, and Jane started on her breakfast. She ate slowly, her appetite hesitant, but the more she ate, the better she started to feel. Maura half-watched her for a few minutes as she cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast, until she was back across the kitchen island from Jane, leaning against it as Jane ate. Finally, she said, “So, how was your night?”

“Great. I think. Unless there’s anything you want to tell me?”

Maura looked puzzled, “Um, no. That’s why I asked how it was.”

“Ah,” Jane took a hearty sip of coffee. She’d waited until she had a decent amount of food in her stomach before really starting on it, and she nearly groaned in pleasure as she allowed herself to drink some. She had a feeling the caffeine would help with her headache. “Well, then I guess I’ll have to ask someone else what I did to make my family flee at the sight of me.”

To her surprise, Maura laughed, but quickly stopped herself. “I’m sorry. It’s not really funny. But it relates to what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Finally,” Jane rubbed her hands together, pushing away from her food just enough to face Maura head on. “Okay, I’m pretty clear-headed, what did you want to talk to me about?” 

“Well,” Maura’s gaze dropped to her nervous fingers lightly tapping the countertop. “I wanted to talk to you about staying here.”

Jane was a little surprised. She hadn’t even been here a week, and she thought things were going pretty well, the incident with Gabriela notwithstanding. “I mean, I know I’ll have to move out eventually. But I really appreciate this in the meantime. I’ll start looking for something else soon, though. I don’t want to like...impede your dating life.”

Maura’s expression registered her own shock. “That’s not at all what I was going to say. In fact, due to the copiousness of your impending class workload and the high cost of housing in the city, I was going to propose that you plan to stay in my guest room for as long as you are a student.”

Torn, Jane said, “Well, yeah, that does make sense, but...I mean...my mother. And I’m pretty sure I’ll drive you nuts.”

“I’ve already attempted to alleviate some of the potential issues with your mother. That meeting this morning with your family was an attempt to ask them to please respect your boundaries so that you will want to stay here.”

Jane laughed, and then she kept laughing. Maybe she was still a little drunk from the night before, because suddenly she didn’t feel so clear-headed, and she laughed until her eyes were welling up, while Maura stood, tapping her fingers on the counter, and stoically watched her until she regained control. “Sorry,” Jane wiped at her eyes, “You did _what_?”

“I asked them to respect your privacy, to try to be conscious of when may or may not be a good time to drop in on you, and to allow you space and time to yourself.” Maura frowned. “I’m not sure they entirely understood, but...it’s a start.”

Shaking her head, Jane said, “The fact that you even tried makes you the best best friend ever.” Maura grinned at that, and Jane continued thinking out loud. “Well, that might help, especially if you’re around to back me up. Probably won’t stop my mother at all, but...still though. I can’t just _live_ here and eat all your food and not contribute anything.” She took another exaggerated bite of her breakfast to emphasize her point.

“That never stopped you when you _didn’t_ live here,” Maura smiled to show she was joking, and Jane rolled her eyes fondly. “But, in fact, there is something you could do, an agreement we could make. Call it your rent.”

“Paying rent would make me feel better about it. I have savings.”

“I have no interest in depleting your savings account while you are a student. In fact, I will do what I can to ensure that the compensation you give me for room and board is no financial burden to you.” 

Jane stared, waiting for the relevant information. Why did Maura always take so long to get to the part Jane wanted to hear? “And?” She finally asked, as Maura’s pause drew on.

Maura appeared to be considering her words carefully, but finally, she said, “I’d like for you to see a therapist. That is my condition upon your continuing to stay here. And I really want you to stay here.”

A familiar, prickling sense came over Jane, as it did at any mention of therapy, or counseling. Jane had attended therapy before, slogged through the requisite meetings with psychiatrists after traumatic events in her career. But she never felt like she got anything out of it, just did the bare minimum required to get back on the job. And even the occasional sessions with her other therapist, the one no one knew about, sometimes left her feeling worse. Generally the experiences made her deeply uncomfortable, and so her instinctual reaction was to reject Maura’s offer outright.

But Maura’s hopeful face made her pause. She had been miserable for so long because her best friend was so far away. Selfishly, she wasn’t ready to be even a block away from Maura, not yet.

“Can I think about it?” Jane asked. If nothing else, she needed to be a little more awake to work through just how much suffering she expected to endure in therapy versus just how nice it would be to stay. 

“Of course,” Maura replied, and to Jane’s relief, she didn’t look disappointed. She’d probably anticipated the response. “Don’t let me stop you from finishing your breakfast.” She refilled up her own coffee cup and sat down at the island next to Jane, opening up some medical article to read on her tablet.

That afternoon, Maura went out shopping, and because Jane had been instructed to “relax and rehydrate today,” Maura hadn’t pressed her to come along. But left alone at Maura’s house, with her mother still making herself scarce, Jane found relaxation difficult. So she pulled on her coat and headed out for a walk.

It was chilly, and the horizon threatened rain that would probably turn to snow as night fell, but the cold air was almost pleasantly refreshing. Jane breathed in deeply, invigorated. Boston winters could be harsh, but they toughened you up. She didn’t necessarily _look forward_ to them, at least not since she was a kid who prayed for a snow day or two, but Jane felt at home in them.

She started in the direction of the closest Boston Joe’s, the one she and Maura usually stopped in after a morning run in the neighborhood. The route was familiar, comfortable. Jane’s feet knew the areas where the brick sidewalk was a little uneven from streetside tree roots jutting up, knew when old snow might be covering a little wrought iron border fence around a tree or a flowerbed. The neighborhood was always pretty quiet, and it seemed magnified by the cold air and insulation of the slushy snow, but not in an unsettling way. It felt peaceful.

As she started making her way out of the residential part of the neighborhood and closer to the shops that led the way downtown, there were more people out on the streets on a Saturday afternoon. The line at Boston Joe’s was pretty long, with people crowding to get inside the warm building, and Jane decided to forego the coffee, instead looping through the businesses to see what had changed since she last lived in the area, then heading back toward the quieter residential streets. 

Given that she’d pretty much only visited Maura’s house and the Dirty Robber since she’d been back, the walk was really Jane’s first reintroduction to the city that was her home once more. And the exhilaration that washed through her as she observed her surroundings only reinforced the fact that what had for a long time been Maura’s classy neighborhood had become Jane’s, even before she’d sublet the apartment a few blocks away from Maura. It was where most of her family lived now, and it could be where she lived, again, too.

And she _wanted_ to live there. A part of her had wanted to for a long time, in spite of her protestations that it was too close to her mother. It didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about the change, but it felt right. Besides, it was also a better situation, financially.

And maybe therapy wouldn’t be that bad. After all, Maura just said she had to see one; Maura wouldn’t have to know anything about the sessions themselves. Jane could just as well attend and not talk about anything if she chose. But she definitely wouldn’t go back to her old therapist if she had to see one with any regularity. He made her far too annoyed to even consider seeing him every week, and if she was ever going to open up, it wouldn’t be to him. She’d spent far too many years fighting him to give in now. No, she’d just let Maura pick someone for her. Then she’d never even have to disclose her old therapist, and she could let some total stranger struggle to figure her out.

Yeah, therapy sucked, but by the time Jane had finished her walk, it seemed worth it.

Besides, there was a part of her that thought Maura might be right.

When she’d spoken with Korsak over the phone that night after her incident on the subway platform, she’d mentioned, in halting and vague terms, that she was worried she might not be up for being back on the force, that she didn’t know if she wanted to resume carrying a gun every day. 

Korsak’s tone was so light as he responded that Jane was worried he hadn’t understand the gravity of what she was trying to tell him. “Well, I know we all hate going in to Psych, but you’ll probably have to get evaluated anyway to get the promotion. Why not jump on it now?”

Jane had dismissed the advice at the time with a grunt, and Korsak hadn’t pressed, but that was more because she didn’t want to talk about it any further than because she wasn’t listening. She had filed it away, avoided the question, until the conversation with Maura had forced her to consider it again. Jane hated to think about it, but in reality, it terrified her that she’d tried to pull her gun on a stranger, and that being without it had felt so impossible every night since then.

Except, Jane realized, now that she was back in Maura’s house. The gun had stayed locked in its case in the top rack of her closet. But though being in a house with Maura only a room away plus an expensive security system made Jane sleep better, she knew switching locations hadn’t resolved the issue surrounding that boy she’d almost harmed. Begrudgingly, Jane was able to admit to herself that therapy might actually be a good idea once again.

That didn’t mean she had to let Maura know she was willing, of course.

That evening, when Angela left for her shift at the Dirty Robber after an oddly cordial dinner with Jane and Maura, Jane brought back up their previous topic of conversation. “I thought about it, and I’d like to stay here, as long as you’ll allow me, and as long as the arrangement works for me. I mean, if Ma drives me nuts, I’m out.” 

Maura smiled, “Caveat notwithstanding, that’s fantastic news.” She headed across the room to her front desk and opened a drawer, extracting a folder.

Jane’s eyes went wide as she asked, “What are you...are you getting a contract?” 

“No. This is a verbal agreement between friends, I have no interest in notarizing this deal.” She pulled a print-out from the folder. She knew Jane well, and therefore anticipated that Jane might attempt to avoid actually attending therapy by choosing at random, or selecting someone whose practice didn’t seem to align with her needs. So Maura had taken the liberty of doing some research and compiling a list of doctors and organizations in the area that that might appeal to Jane. “This is a list of potential therapists or psychiatrists who specialize in PTSD and other related conditions. Hopefully, this gives you a starting point so that you can start therapy soon, and fulfill the conditions of our agreement. And once you’ve selected someone, I’ll handle the financial arrangements.”

Jane stared at the list like an animal staring down an oncoming car for a long moment before she blinked and glanced up at Maura. “Thanks. I...uh, appreciate it. I need a new therapist anyway.”

Maura’s eyebrows rose, “New therapist?”

Jane sighed, and slumped, “I mean, not the same one I saw when I was at BPD. Never really clicked with him.”

“A good rapport is an important dynamic in such a relationship. I think you’ll find many of the professionals on the list have relevant experiences to make them potentially good matches for you.”

“Hope so,” Jane grunted, folding up the list and shoving it into her pocket.

Maura felt triumphant, certain that this was the best course of action for Jane to take, personally and financially. She was, however, a little uncertain whether this was the best course of action for she herself. 

On the surface, it seemed like there would be obvious, selfish benefits to Jane cohabitating with her that bordered on unethical. The fact that they were best friends who missed each other and enjoyed spending as much time as possible together anyway was at least a reciprocal perk. But Maura worried about the effect the situation might have on her libido.

It had already attached itself pretty significantly to Jane. Though her time with Gabriela had proven to be a brief but effective erotic outlet, this hadn’t really siphoned off any of her attraction to Jane, which still reared its head and waved its sexy mane of hair at many random moments. Maura couldn’t help but dwell on how it was already proving nearly impossible to _not_ think about Jane during private moments, and now...was it even more unethical to think about one’s best friend while pleasuring oneself if said friend was residing under the same roof?

But that was her issue to contend with, and didn’t change the fact that Jane living with her would make both of them happy and save Jane a lot of stress and money. Besides, it hadn’t influenced Maura’s decision to offer accommodations and her prompting Jane to attend therapy. Her attraction, so far, hadn’t influenced her perception of their friendship or the dynamics of their relationship. It wasn’t about her feelings for Jane, and as long as she could keep her attraction solely expressed erotically, she would consider it properly compartmentalized.

She realized, that weekend, that it would be a fruitless effort to try to prevent her mind from wandering to Jane during masturbation. Which...didn’t entirely surprise her. Maura knew that in humans, libido tended to win out over the mind in the end. The blacksmithing erotic vignette hadn’t contained Maura’s fantasy, either. It was Jane herself who ignited something in Maura and that meant Maura just had to work harder to contain it.

Earlier that Sunday, Jane had called Maura into her room, her tone perplexed, “Maura, I think you left some stuff in here.”

“I did leave you some novels,” Maura had replied, approaching Jane’s open door. She’d purchased a couple true-crime and mystery books that were highly ranked on the New York Times Bestseller list. Jane wasn’t an avid reader, but Maura knew she’d been a bit worried about losing her detective’s touch, and while Maura had plenty of books from the genre that she’d read while learning to hone her writing skills, she’d sought out some of the best for Jane.

“No, I mean the clothes. There’s like new tank tops.”

Maura raised her eyebrows, taking in the scene. Many of Jane’s boxes were open, contents spilling onto the floor, but Maura realized that was because Jane was finally unpacking. The dresser’s drawers were pulled out, and Jane held packs of ribbed tank tops and v-necks of various colors, still in the packaging. They were both pretty basic undershirts, but of a quality brand. “No, those are for you. Pajama shirts, since I know you need new ones.”

“You didn’t have to,” Jane was smiling, though, so Maura knew it was her attempt at thank you.

“I wanted to save you a trip to the store.”

“They do look comfortable,” Jane tore into one of the bags, dropping the packaging in the general direction of the antique metal trash can. Before Maura had time to even avert her eyes, she was tugging the thin pajama shirt she was already wearing over her head, shaking out her hair and sweeping it back over her shoulders. Maura watched helplessly for a moment, then her sense of decorum prompted her to ensure she wasn’t leering. Instead, she watched, trying to feel neutral, as Jane pulled one of the new tank tops on, and Maura watched her abs as her torso twisted into the garment. Once clothed again, Jane caught Maura’s eye and grinned. “They _are_ comfortable. Thanks.”

“You are very welcome. Need any help unpacking?”

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.” As she left Jane to her unpacking, Maura reminded herself that her attraction couldn’t be helped, and she was protecting Jane from feeling violated by hiding her attraction. What Jane didn’t know couldn’t disturb her.

By evening, Maura was restless, enough so that she headed to bed a little bit early to give herself time alone. Jane was watching something sports-related on television, anyway, which meant her attention was pretty absorbed. It was a natural prompt to spend the evening apart, which Maura knew would be something they’d both have to learn do while cohabitating. 

Once upstairs, Maura shimmied out of her dress and carefully placed her shoes and jewelry back in their respective containers. Once nude, she pulled on a robe, and ritualistically walked around her room, turning on an aromatherapy oil warmer, starting a classical music playlist, and otherwise ensuring that her room was relaxing and that her privacy would be maintained.

She performed her nightly hygiene routine, so that by the time she was crawling up onto her bed, she didn’t have any other tasks, nothing else to trouble her mind, and was able to recline against her pillows and let her mind wander into the libidinous headspace that had been churning for much of the day.

Maura lay, lightly caressing her own skin as she began to fantasize. She already knew it would be fruitless to try to think of men; they had dominated much of her sexual expression for many years now, but at this point in her life, women interested her far more. She let her hands wander, felt her breath hitch, as she thought about Simone, about Gabriela, about the flight attendant, and even let her mind wander to some of the other erotic shorts she had written to express herself. But she was unable, ultimately, to prevent her mind from settling on Jane.

_Jane_. Just the thought of her conjured up so much sensory input, from the faux-floral scent of her shampoo, to the way her throaty chuckle sometimes caused Maura’s stomach to flip. And of course, the visuals: the way her thin pajama t-shirts left so little of her torso to the imagination, the memory of her in her sports bra, rifling through her boxes searching for the rest of her exercise outfits, and this morning...Maura felt a charge run through her as she remembered Jane unselfconsciously peeling off her shirt to try on her new one.

It wasn’t new, seeing Jane in various states of undress. Though Jane could often be rather...prudish, she tended to be different around Maura, more open, more comfortable. Maura didn’t want that to change, but she also didn’t want to take advantage of their friendship.

But it was difficult to worry about the ethics of the situation when she had Jane’s abs and arms and her wild dark curls to fixate on as she began to touch herself in earnest. Her lips parted in a soft, low whimper. Jane probably had no _idea_ how sexy she was without even trying, and the forbiddenness of that attraction ramped Maura up on its own. Jane was all lean, strong limbs, athletic grace and controlled power and effortless gorgeousness. She was like a feral cat in moments of intensity, and a heart-melting puppy in her vulnerability, and acknowledging the dynamic pull of Jane only seemed to increase Maura’s attraction.

With Jane as her focus, Maura barely even had to consider any specific erotic scenarios, though they certainly crossed her mind. There were flashes as Maura imagined Jane pushing her against the wall and sliding a hand into her pants, or crawling up Maura’s body to settle over her mouth, but ultimately, Maura’s mind settled on the image of the two of them together on Maura’s bed, mouths connected, bodies pressing, limbs tangling and moaning softly as they made out like horny teenagers.

Before long, Maura’s moans were real, and her hips were undulating with the motion of her hand as she brought herself to climax. And as she came down, catching her breath, pressing her hand to her chest to feel her heart pound, she checked in with herself emotionally. She felt relieved, but also a bit guilty. It wasn’t exactly her preference to masturbate to images of her best friend, especially not memories of their daily lives together, but if it was going to surface at the point of orgasmic inevitability anyway, Maura was no longer going to try to fight it. Her dream the previous month had opened the floodgates, and there was no damming up her attraction now. At the very least, make-out fantasies were pretty tame.

But with the recent loss of Gabriela’s company and sexual availability, Maura was again longing for contact and connection. She would have to let Angela know that she would once again be welcome to play matchmaker.

Otherwise, Maura feared, it was only a matter of time before her attempts to compartmentalize her feelings about Jane would fail.

“Ma, you can just come in here, you don’t have to creep around in the hall.” Jane was still in bed, though she’d been awake for at least an hour, running the list of therapists Maura had given her through Yelp, to see if any seemed like they might be serial killers. She trusted Maura’s professional instincts, but she also couldn’t be too careful. And, yeah, maybe Jane was just trying to extend the window of time between agreeing to go to therapy and having to actually show up.

“I’m just trying to respect your space,” Angela replied, finally stepping through the doorway.

“Maura told me about your little meeting.”

“She just wants you feel comfortable.”

“I know, and I do. What stresses me out is my mother lurking in the shadows like some kind of vampire.” She nodded toward the open space on the bed and Angela sat down.

“Well, I lurk because I care. And I’m making pancakes. Are you planning to get up soon?”

“Yeah, I was just working on something.” Jane snapped the computer shut, unsure if Angela had any idea about the therapy agreement. She was fairly certain that Maura wouldn’t have disclosed something so personal without her consent, especially given the boundary discussion she’d had with the rest of the Rizzolis.

Angela’s gaze surveyed the room. Jane wasn’t fully unpacked, but most of her stuff had been put into drawers and on the shelves. “It must be exciting to be starting a new chapter, huh? I always wondered what college would be like.”

“You could always enroll at the community college,” Jane suggested.

Angela waved it away. “I’m fine with my GED. I can live vicariously through you.”

“Oh sure, because of that criminal justice degree you always wanted.”

“Hey, being married to your father should get me some kind of honorary diploma after all the crap I found out he was pulling behind my back.”

Jane laughed, lightly. It was still difficult to process that Frank, Sr. wasn’t the hero she’d made him out to be. “You’re a damn good Ma, if it means anything.”

Angela almost crush Jane in a sudden hug. “It means everything.” As she released Jane, she said, “Now get downstairs and eat some breakfast.”

“Okay, okay.” Jane tossed the covers off, knowing her new pajama shirt and her usual sweatpants were acceptable attire as long as there were no guests in the house. Just as Angela stepped back into the hall, she crossed paths with Maura, who caught Jane’s eye line with an expression that asked if all of Jane’s boundaries were being respected. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Maura.”

“Of course everything’s fine,” Angela commented, moving down the hall. “Why wouldn’t everything be fine?”

“Just getting back from a run?” Jane asked, knowing it was obvious, given that Maura was dressed in her usual cold weather running gear. That and a few loose strands of her hair were stuck to her face with sweat. 

Maura nodded. “I left about an hour ago. Your door was closed, so I assumed you were sleeping.”

“Wake me up, next time. Ma keeps feeding me like I’m her prized horse, so I need to work off all the bunny pancakes.” Jane didn’t usually seek out extraneous exercise, but she’d missed so many of the routines she and Maura used to share. Since they weren’t working together, anymore, she had to rely on activities beyond crime scene investigation.

Maura’s face lit up in a genuine (as if anything Maura presented wasn’t ever authentic) wide smile. “I will.”

They split ways in the hall, with Jane bounding downstairs to pour herself a cup of the coffee she could smell brewing in the kitchen. Knowing Maura would be down after a quick shower, she pulled a second cup down from the cupboard and set it next to the coffee maker. Jane had lived by herself for so long, it was strange to have household routines involving other people, but as Jane sat conversing lightly as her mother cooked, anticipating Maura joining them for breakfast, she realized how much she valued these interactions. They were why she spent so much time at Maura’s house when she’d had her own home in Boston, and they were part of what was so miserable about DC.

Home, to Jane, was Boston, her family and Maura, and she’d never felt more at home than an intersection of all three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so FINALLY we are at the meat and potatoes part of this story, the premise that got us wanting to write it in the first place. We wanted to get them under the same roof and, a dozen chapters (and a year) later, here they are. There's still a lot of story left to tell, but we wanted to thank those of you who have been reading from the beginning and also those of you who have found us along the way.
> 
> Without giving up any details or spoilers, there's so much fun in the upcoming chapters with Jane going to school (just think about how much Maura LOVES learning) and Maura trying to desperately to compartmentalize her feelings (just think about how impossible it is for Maura to actually hide anything from Jane...other than the study closet) and the rest of the family probably totally seeing through all of this and putting everything together before these two realize how MFEO they are.
> 
> We're actively moving from the angstier setup into the dynamic between the two of them that makes them so fun and perfect and Rizzles. (And we'll do our best to have the next one up on the first of the month!)


	14. Chapter 14

“It’s your first day of school! I can’t believe it, let me get my phone camera out…” Angela shuffled around in her purse.

Bemused, Jane gazed down at her new v-neck style sleep shirt and FBI sweatpants. “You...want to take a picture of this?” She gestured at herself in her pajamas, sitting at the kitchen island with her plate of egg whites and turkey bacon.

Angela frowned as she searched her purse, and when she glanced up and registered Jane’s appearance, her expression morphed into panic. “Why aren’t you dressed? Don’t you have school?”

“My first class isn’t until noon, Ma.”

“Oh. Well...I didn’t think of that. You should send me your schedule so I’ll know where you should be when.”

Jane heard shuffling behind her as Maura pushed away from the front desk where she had been writing while eating her own breakfast, and realized Angela’s request had caught Maura’s attention. She quickly realized Maura was concerned about her boundaries, and stumbled to answer her mom. “Uh, sure, I can let you know when I’m likely to be on campus, yeah.” Angela definitely didn’t need to know Jane’s exact schedule or even which building her specific class might be in, but Jane was comfortable at least having Angela know when she should be home for safety reasons. And by safety, it meant Jane was safer when her mother wasn’t frantically worrying about her.

Angela seemed satisfied with this, and Maura settled back in her own seat. Jane wanted to know what she was working on; Maura apparently experienced a flash of inspiration she couldn’t ignore. But then Angela fished her phone out of her purse and said, “Well, I’ll be gone by noon, so I’ll have to get the picture now!”

“Really, Ma? We established that I’m in my pajamas, right?”

“I thought that was just how college students dressed,” Angela quipped.

Jane rolled her eyes, and Maura piped up, “There were times during med school that even I had trouble maintaining professional standards of attirement.”

Jane turned to stare at her in bewilderment. “ _You_ wore pajamas to class?”

“I didn’t say that,” Maura said carefully.

“Come on, I got the camera open, picture time!” Angela interrupted Jane’s interrogation. “Maura, you too, I know you’re as excited as I am.”

Maura stood up, admitting, “I am experiencing quite the vicarious thrill over Jane’s return to education.”

“Okay, where’s your book bag?”

Jane groaned, “My bag is upstairs and no I’m not going to get it for the picture.”

“Janie, how else will we know this is a school picture?”

“Maybe it would be more obvious if I weren’t in pajamas,” Jane grunted. She began to eat more quickly, anticipating being separated from her meal for her mother’s photo op.

“You told me you didn’t have a bag,” Maura commented right before Jane pinched at her arm. “Ow!”

“There was a spider.”

“Jane, why would you lie to me about a bag?” Angela didn’t sound genuinely hurt, but even her exaggerated tone of disappointment was enough to make Jane prickle.

“I have an idea,” Maura spoke before Jane could retort, “I have a gift for Jane that might be appropriate.”

“You do?” Jane asked through the bacon in her mouth.

“I do.” Maura left the room without further explanation, though Jane and Angela didn’t have time for much more than an exchanged a glance or two before Maura strode back in carrying a thin, flat box, appearing impervious to Jane’s impatience. “This is something I think you’ll find very useful. You will need a bag, however.”

Maura still wasn’t handing over the object. Even gift-giving was methodical to her. Jane assured her, “I’ll get a bag when I go to the college store for my books.”

“You still haven’t bought your books?” It’s was Maura’s turn to be panicked. “Jane, they might be sold out, and if you have to order them and they don’t arrive right away, you could end up behind on your classwork the very first week!” Angela gasped at this revelation.

Jane waved a hand at each of them placatingly, but addressed Maura. “Relax. I’ll borrow your Amazon Prime account if I need to order them, I’ll be fine.”

Maura looked heavily skeptical, but she appeared to notice that Angela and Jane were both eyeing the box she held, so she squared off her shoulders and then passed the item to Jane.

The box was a standard mailing parcel, carefully opened, and Jane reached inside it and withdrew another box from within. As soon as she saw the cover of the box, she felt her mouth drop open. “You got me a computer?”

“Yes, specifically, a MacBook Air. Reliable, efficient, and you can carry it all over campus without the risk of straining your back.” Jane stopped listening as she began enumerating on the machine’s specifications. It was hard to make sense of when rapidly recited by an excited Maura Isles.

Finally, Jane had to interrupt. “But I already have a laptop.”

“Yes, and you’ve had it for several years. A new machine will be less likely to crash and lose your data. Especially since I know you don’t back it up regularly.”

Jane didn’t have a retort for that one, and despite the fact that she didn’t usually like it when people spent money on her, she also knew Maura expressed herself with gifts, so she settled on, “Thank you, Maura,” and got up to hug her friend, who laughed a bit in surprise.

“Perfect!” Angela called out, and Jane pulled away from the embrace to realize that Angela had taken a picture while they were hugging. “Okay, now let’s do one where you’re both holding the computer.”

“Ma, she’s not Ed McMahon handing me a giant check,” but Jane indulged her mother in another picture, then excused herself from the kitchen to go get showered and dressed. She had been planning to dawdle a bit this morning before heading to her class, but Maura’s concern about her textbooks was making Jane anxious, too, so she wanted to head out early.

She was already having a bit of anxiety about going back to school. It was natural enough, she knew, as it was a big life change on top of several other big life events all occurring within a year. She hadn’t been a student in decades, and though she’d done well in high school and junior college--well enough to get into BCU initially, anyway--school had never exactly been easy for her. She’d had to work hard to do as well as she did, and Jane was worried she would be in over her head trying to do it again at her age.

The police academy had been easy, though. But that was because it was interesting to her, and she wanted to know everything. Jane’s problem had always been her attention span when it came to school. She had to concentrate hard, especially in the classes she didn’t really like. And as most of the junior college classes that qualified her for her Associate’s degree were criminal justice classes designed to prepare one for the police academy, she needed to complete a lot of general education credits to finish her Bachelor’s, which ultimately meant...a lot of courses Jane didn’t really care about. It wasn’t going to be easy to slog through some of them, though she tried to pick the most interesting options whenever possible, and when that failed, she picked whatever Maura would know a lot about, figuring she could at least get some help.

She took public transportation, in part because she didn’t want to borrow a car and because she didn’t know where she would be allowed to park, and arrived on campus early. She was familiar with its basic layout--and due to her police work she definitely knew the location of the campus security center and some of the student housing, at least--but her other knowledge lacked specificity, and so she pulled up a map on her phone and started walking, mentally orienting the location of her various classes, the bookstore, the library, and campus dining facilities in case she got desperate. Once she felt more secure in her knowledge, she headed to the bookstore.

Maura was right to be concerned, as it turned out three of the sixteen books she had to buy for her classes were out of stock. Luckily, the books for the classes she would begin today were all available, and Jane ultimately wasn’t too worried about ordering the others online. But she hadn’t realized quite how many books she’d be buying or how expensive they’d be. And, because of the number of textbooks she’d ended up pulling off the shelves, she’d absolutely had to add a backpack to the purchase, because there was no way she’d be able to lug everything around campus without one.

No wonder college students were always broke.

Yet somehow, when her student ID was swiped to begin the transaction, the clerk informed her that there was already a card on file, and did she want to use that one?

“There is? But I never set one up.”

“Well, there is one, maybe it belongs to a family member or spouse? Let me see...it’s an American Express, and the name on the card is Maura--” Jane groaned, interrupting the clerk, who looked uncertain. “Is...is this not the right card?”

“No, it’s…” Jane sighed. “It’s fine. I just didn’t realize.” Maura had insisted on paying for Jane’s student ID, and must have connected her card to Jane’s ID then. Jane could afford her books, though they were pricier than she expected, and therefore, she was kind of okay with Maura covering the cost. Maura did keep insisting on taking care of Jane’s finances while she was a student, after all, and Jane knew none of this was really a financial burden to her friend. She didn’t love accepting favors like this, but by now, she knew how to accept them from Maura, at least.

As the clerk finished out the order and packed everything that would fit into the bookbag for her, Jane’s mind wandered to the guest bathroom. Or, she supposed, _her_ bathroom, for now. The fixtures were nice, but basic, and the showerhead was always a little low. She decided that, later in the week, she’d take another trip to pick up more plumbing hardware and upgrade the bathroom for Maura. If Maura insisted on paying for Jane’s college expenses, Jane would pay her back through plumbing.

Jane was a little early to her first class, and only had to wait a few minutes for the preceding class to finish up and file out, allowing her to take a seat toward the back, as was her preference. She groaned as she set down her very full bookbag and took her seat. The chair was hard and uncomfortable, and Jane spent some time shifting around, trying to figure out if there was any tolerable way to sit. Being on the other side of the lecture podium already seemed harder.

The first class itself wasn’t too difficult. It was World History, and mostly the professor discussed the syllabus and student expectations. Lots of reading, apparently, and regular quizzes. Then she had enough time to start a lecture about how people study history and how different sources are classified before class was over, and students were let out with a reminder to complete about twenty pages of reading.

Jane’s second and third classes were pretty similar to the first, and she lugged her heavy bag home on the T. No one else was home when Jane got home, and she tried to decide what to do with her privacy.

Of course, she had no interest in starting the dozens of pages of reading she had been assigned. She still had another day to complete that before class would meet again.

She settled on running a bath. Winter still hadn’t fully released its grasp on the city of Boston, even in early April, and the cold air combined with the stress on Jane’s back from her heavy bag put her in the mood for an extended soak.

Though Jane wanted to upgrade the guest bathroom-- _her_ bathroom--she did like it, overall. The bathtub itself sloped in a way that allowed her to recline quite comfortably, and actually gave a fair amount of room for her long legs. And so far, at least, Jane hadn’t run out of hot water for her showers or baths.

She listened to sports radio as she soaked, but her mind wandered. Baseball on the radio had more nostalgic value for her than anything else, and reminded her of car rides with her dad growing up, so she was only vaguely paying attention to the game itself.

Day one of school was complete, and Jane felt relieved. She felt she could handle the classwork, especially if she brought her new computer to take notes on. But it was weird to feel so alone on campus, however, not to mention the fact that she was so conspicuously older than her other classmates. She didn’t want to have to collaborate on projects with other students, who were all basically the same age as the students she had been teaching just a month or so ago.

But she wasn’t there to socialize, she was there to complete her degree as quickly as possible to advance her career. Ultimately, she had the people around her that she needed already. Her family, and Maura.

She turned on the hot water tap, warming up her bathwater. The bathroom was steamy, the radio a pleasant buzz. Jane smoothed her hands over her skin, and her mind wandered to masturbation. Jane typically didn’t indulge in leisurely self-pleasure; usually she didn’t think about it until she was too keyed up to think clearly, and some sort of release was necessary. Ultimately, she discarded the idea from lack of interest. But it brought to mind something she hadn’t thought much about since her return to Boston: sex, and intimacy.

For the foreseeable future, those things seemed unlikely to be a part of her life. Her studies would keep her quite busy and she doubted she would meet anyone at school she would be willing to pursue. College-aged boys did not interest her in the least.

She wondered if she’d miss it, or how much. Sex with Cameron had been more interesting, and mildly more adventurous than the sex she’d had up until that point in her life. They’d usually had it because he’d initiated, and Jane enjoyed it, but even though it was probably the most fun she’d had in bed, she didn’t seem to crave it the way he did. She didn’t really miss him, but she did miss that sense of connection, of desirability.

There had been plenty of times in her life that she had gone without sexual and romantic partnership, of course--most of her life, if she was honest. Usually it didn’t bother her because she found fulfillment in other areas. After her most recent relationship had fizzled out, she was left again wondering if a marriage was something she would ever have. She wasn’t getting any younger. The baby she had lost might have been one her true shot at motherhood--not that she’d felt even remotely ready at the time, despite Maura’s support and confidence that they would have been able to handle it together. And at the same time, she didn’t feel ready to date again yet, either. She had stepped far outside her comfort zone with Cameron--far enough to leave the only city she’d ever called home. Maybe there was some desperation to finally have the family her mother had yearned for through Jane’s entire life that had contributed to Jane’s desire to try so hard this last time. But clearly, she hadn’t tried hard enough.

It wasn’t worth worrying about at the moment. Jane was working to build a life for herself so that she could be happy, whether she was partnered or not. That was more important, always had been.

Day two of her newfound college career was slightly easier than the first. She already had her books and was only hauling around the few she needed for the day. While some things had definitely changed since her time in junior college, other things remained the same. As a professor droned on through a syllabus review, she looked over her classmates and noticed that the desperation to find an identity through wildly colored hair, piercings, and unique fashion choices was as alive and well as it had been back in the 90s. Now, being older, Jane thought back to the army jacket she’d bought at a church rummage sale when she was seventeen and how she’d worn it all through the end of high school and during both of her community college years. That, along with a bulky leather bracelet, had been part of her everyday wear, two fashion statements her mother had absolutely hated.

“You’re so pretty. Why can’t you just look nice?” had been Angela’s query, more than once.

At least now Jane was fine just wearing jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt. Comfortable, without really any accessories aside from her wrist watch, despite the fact that she could almost hear Maura in her head instructing that accessorizing was always necessary. Sure beat the business casual dress code students at the FBI Academy had to follow.

Over dinner that evening, Maura asked her how her homework was going.

“Fine, I guess,” Jane shrugged, taking another bite of her baked sweet potato.

Maura eyed her over the rim of her wine glass, and after setting it back down replied, “You haven’t started it yet, have you?”

“It’s only like thirty pages or something.”

Maura frowned, “That’s your reading for tomorrow?”

“Both classes, yeah.” Maura’s gaze dropped back to her plate, and she looked conflicted. “ _What_ , Maura? You can tell me.”

“I just think,” Maura said carefully, “That you might want to start your reading before it gets too late in the day if you want to retain it better.”

“My first class isn’t until noon tomorrow. I can be up late reading if it takes awhile.” Maura gave a conciliatory shrug. Jane knew she meant well, but she was disappointed to be criticized on her second day as a student. “I know that...academia is more your thing. But let me figure out what I need to do on my own, okay?”

Maura appeared satisfied, and nodded, “I can do that. And if you ever want my help, just ask.”

“I will,” Jane said. She hoped she’d never have to ask, but Maura was in the back of her mind as a possible rescue if she really did struggle with school.

It turned out, though, that Maura had a point. Maybe it was the glass and a half of wine Jane had consumed with dinner, but by the time she made it upstairs to her room and sprawled out on her bed to start her reading, she was already sort of unmotivated and tired. She started slogging through her World History reading.

One thing was certain: Jane had forgotten just how long a few dozen pages of material could be when it was all reading she wasn’t that interested in. While she’d spent years looking over dry incident reports at BPD, she was always looking for clues to put together her case, so the motivation was always there. In the textbook, there were a few points she thought were vaguely interesting, but mostly it was a swirl of definitions and data that she had little connection to. She managed to finish her reading while forcing herself not to nod off toward the end of it, but she wasn’t sure how much of it she’d really retained. Her text highlighting had gotten pretty random toward the end of the chapter.

But in class the next day, lecture and discussion did a lot to recap what was in the assigned reading. Jane was pleased to recognize and remember enough to at least answer a question in each of her first two classes--her professors kept stressing that class participation was an important part of their grading system--and at least skimming the material kept her from feeling too lost. Maybe she didn’t need to do a close read if they’d go over it again during the lecture.

Her third class on Wednesday was an evening class that met weekly. Jane had time to take the T home and eat an early dinner while switching out her books before heading back to campus for her class. She didn’t arrive quite as early as she generally liked to, and there were students filing in when she got there. She stepped in, scanned the room, and her mouth dropped open as someone sitting in the first row called her name.

“Maura? What are you doing here?” Jane glanced around, feeling conspicuous. Other students were definitely taking note of the two nontraditional students in the room.

“I signed up to audit this class!” Maura sounded eager. She had a brand new binder full of notebook paper placed on the center of the desk in front of her. “When I heard you were taking a British literature course, I couldn’t resist. Romantic period Brit Lit is one of my favorites.”

“Okay, well, if you’re going to take a class with me, we’re doing it my way. We’re sitting in the back.” Maura looked disappointed, and Jane muttered, “Maybe we should let some other Hermione Granger who’s paying to be here sit up front?”

That seemed to convince Maura, and the two of them took adjacent seats in the back corner of the classroom.

“I was surprised when you chose this class. I had no idea you were interested in British lit,” Maura commented as she opened her notebook and carefully noted the class, professor, and date in the upper corner of the page.

“I read all seven Harry Potter books,” Jane replied. But at Maura’s raised eyebrow, she muttered, “Okay, I _listened_ to them.”

“While excellent contemporary children’s literature, that book series doesn’t qualify as classic Romantic--” Maura stopped short. “You’re teasing me.”

“I am. And I only chose this class because it fit my schedule and takes care of the literature credits I need.” There was a look on Maura’s face that Jane interpreted as some form of disappointment which made Jane immediately want to remedy. “But I’m glad it fits into your schedule.”

At that, Maura smiled. “Me, too! If we’re not going to see each other in the workplace, I thought it would be nice to spend some time together doing something outside of the house.”

“I guess it’s also a good thing you’re here to keep me awake.”

“Novels from this period are quite passionate--”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed that from Romantic Period.”

“Not in the sense of actual romances, but they…” Maura paused, her eyes zeroed in on Jane’s, which were already glazing over. “They sometimes deal in the supernatural.”

That piqued Jane’s interest, at least a little. Maybe a good ghost story could be fun, even with all the corsets and tea drinking. However, there were no creepy campfire tales during the first class, just the general overview of what to expect from the course and a brief (that felt too-long to Jane) history of British literature up to the period they would be studying, which apparently included more than just the Romantic period. She at least managed to stay awake, which was mostly due to the notes she and Maura passed back and forth about whether or not the kid three rows ahead of them had once been brought in for questioning on a case.

It was nice having Maura join her, though it made the rest of her classes that week feel a lot less fun.

By Saturday, Jane felt pretty burnt out from school. Not that it had been difficult, but the adjustment had taken a toll. It had been difficult to adjust to being a teacher at first, too, but the relative freedom she had in structuring her class had made time management seem easier than being a student. There was also the sense that she was trying harder to be a student; in retrospect, teaching hadn’t been very stressful because she hadn’t _cared_ that much about it, even though, at the time, she thought she did.

She was looking forward to spending her Saturday relaxing, content to catch up on schoolwork on Sunday. She was glued to a Red Sox game on TV that afternoon, bag of chips in her lap, when Maura returned home from BPD.

They exchanged greetings, and then Jane refocused on the game as Maura sorted through the mail on her desk. But a few minutes later, Maura spoke up, “Jane?”

“Yeah?” Jane didn’t look away from the screen, waiting for the next pitch to be thrown.

“I just wanted to check in with you, about your living arrangements.”

Jane slumped back against the couch, but not because of Maura’s question, but because the pitch had finally been thrown. Strike three. It took her a moment to process what Maura had said, and she replied, “It’s going great, Maura.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Have you made any progress on your…rent?”

Jane was trying to focus on the question, honestly, but the next batter had a reputation for being a pretty heavy hitter, so it was a moment before she replied. “Yeah, I’ve made progress.”

“Does that mean you made an appointment?” Maura sat next to her on the couch, giving the television a long glance before turning to Jane.

Jane kept her eyes on the screen, though this time it was because she didn’t really want to look at Maura as she replied. “Well, no, not yet.”

“I see. Have you chosen a therapist?”

“Basically.”

“Which means?”

“I have it narrowed down to a few.” That part was true, at least, though Jane hadn’t looked at the list in over a week. She hadn’t forgotten about it, exactly, but it hadn’t been a priority.

“I don’t wish to rush you, especially considering you are getting used to your school schedule, but as it’s been a few weeks…” Maura trailed off.

Feeling guilty, Jane finally tore her eyes away from the screen. “I’m sorry. I’ll get it done.”

“Don’t apologize, but yes, please.” Maura settled back against the couch. “So, what’s happening in the game?”

“We’re losing, but only for now. It’s been back and forth for three innings now.” Eager to be back on a topic she enjoyed, Jane relaxed again.

But she hadn’t forgotten about the conversation. More than anything, she didn’t want to disappoint Maura, so that evening before bed, she at least finalized her choice of therapist, which really amounted to simply circling the one she remembered having the best feeling about just before turning out the light.

Monday morning, while her mother took TJ to school and Maura was out consulting with Kent on a current case, Jane dialed the number for the therapist she’d chosen.

“Dr. Hendrix’s office, how may I help you?” came a woman’s voice through the phone.

“Uh, yeah, I’d like to make an appointment,” said Jane.

“And you’re already a patient of Dr. Hendrix?”

“No, I’m a new patient.” Jane was already restless and tapping her fingers against the list of therapists.

“I’m sorry, the doctor isn’t taking on any new patients at this time.”

Jane was momentarily delighted that she would be legitimately able to postpone things, but she glanced at the paper in front of her. Maura had bolded a line at the top: **Please be sure to mention that I’m referring you!**

She sighed, then said, “I’m calling on a referral from Dr. Isles.”

There was a pause and the sound of shuffling, then, “Oh! Your name?”

“Jane Rizzoli.”

After several clicks of a keyboard, the receptionist said, “Yes, I see the note, right here. Okay, I have an opening on Thursday at eleven.”

“This Thursday?” Jane had hoped that it would be a few weeks before there would be something available.

“Yes. Will that work for you?”

“I guess so.”

She felt a queasy feeling as she disconnected the call. The appointment was real.

And since Maura’s name was tied to it, there was no getting out of it now.

Jane was mostly able to put the appointment out of her mind for the first half of the week as she went through the routine of school. She was keeping up with her reading assignments fairly well, even started her Lit class reading on Sunday since it was so long. It was boring, however, but at least she felt like she was getting a little more out of it when Maura insisted on discussing it with her. Even though Maura was really only taking the class with her to enjoy the Romantic period, she was reading the other assigned stuff, too, which Jane found endearingly Maura-like, though she expressed that sentiment by calling her a nerd.

After class on Wednesday evening, they headed home, and Maura brewed some herbal tea to help them both wind down from the class and the lively car ride home in which they bantered about everything from the reading to the students to the professor. Jane was glad her best friend actually was nerdy enough to take a class with her, because she missed working with Maura, a lot. This was as close as they could get at the moment, and given their widely different approaches to academia, it brought out the debate and ribbing that made their friendship so enjoyable for them both.

They headed up to their respective bedrooms after finishing their tea, and as Jane set her alarm, her phone calendar reminded her of her appointment the next morning. She hadn’t entirely forgotten, but in the moment, she was grateful for the sleepy haze the tea had put over her. It helped her avoid the wave of dread over the appointment as she set her alarm just to make sure she didn’t sleep in too late.

Of course, her mind woke her body up ten minutes before the alarm was set to go off, making Jane groan in frustration at losing the final few valuable minutes of sleep. But it was almost nine and, while she enjoyed sleeping in, there was no real desire to fall back asleep. The anxiety of seeing her new therapist had her buzzing and she decided she needed to replace that with the buzz of coffee, immediately.

Maura was downstairs when Jane made it to the kitchen and beelined to the coffee pot. She smiled at Jane and greeted, “Good morning.”

Jane grunted in response as she lifted the cup of coffee to her mouth, but after the first sip, she murmured, “Morning.”

“You’re up early.”

Jane shrugged. She hadn’t told Maura about the appointment because she didn’t want to talk about it. At some point over the weekend, she figured she’d casually mention that she’d gone to see the therapist, just to assure Maura she was serious about keeping their deal, but she had no interest in any further conversation on the topic. “Just couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Well, since you’re up, do you want to go to breakfast?” asked Maura.

The instinct was to hop up out of her seat and run upstairs to get ready as quickly as possible, but instead she had to say, “I can’t.” At Maura’s quizzical glance, Jane had to think of a reason. “I, uh, have a study group.”

“That’s fantastic,” was Maura’s pleased reply. “For which class?”

“Today’s,” Jane said vaguely, not wanting to dig herself any deeper into the details of a lie. “In fact, I should get ready.” As she headed upstairs, she felt awful for misleading her friend, especially over something she probably should have just told her about, anyway.

Jane took public transportation to her appointment. It seemed appropriate somehow that becoming a student again meant relying more heavily on the T, and there was always the possibility of borrowing a car from Maura if true need arose. But the anonymity of public transit appealed to Jane for this venture.

This office was in a smaller building, adjacent to and affiliated with one of Boston’s well-regarded hospitals. It was a quiet building, and seemed empty as Jane made her way through the halls to the waiting room and reception area associated with the mental health facility.

Just walking through the doors made her feel conspicuous, but she relaxed when the handful of people in the room paid her no mind. She checked in with the receptionist, and then chose a chair to wait in. The chair was cushioned and looked reasonably comfortable, but as soon as Jane sat down, she was disappointed. It reminded her of some of the old furniture in Maura’s office. She wondered if deeply uncomfortable upholstery was a doctor thing.

It was almost exactly eleven o’clock when a small, dark-haired woman opened the door and said, “Jane?”

Jane stood up and forced a smile as she approached. The woman ushered her through the door and down the hall. Though Jane didn’t wish to see her old therapist, Dr. Caplan, anymore, she did miss the ability to meet in the park, on her own terms, and apprehensively followed the woman into her office.

It was fairly simple, with full bookshelves, framed credentials on the wall, a desk, a sofa and some armchairs. Jane stood uncertainly, and the woman closed the door behind them, then turned to offer her hand. “I’m Dr. Hendrix.”

“Jane,” Jane replied, feeling immediately foolish, since obviously the doctor already knew her name, but she accepted the handshake.

Dr. Hendrix didn’t appear to think anything of it, however, and replied, “It’s nice to meet you, Jane. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Jane glanced around, “Do I have to sit on the couch?”

“Not at all,” Dr. Hendrix replied, a touch of amusement in her voice, “Anywhere you like.”

A cheeky part of Jane considered sitting in the doctor’s desk chair at that, but she decided to sit on one of the comfortable-looking armchairs instead. It was more comfortable than the chairs in the waiting room, at least. To her surprise, Dr. Hendrix sat in the other armchair, and not behind her desk at all.

“So, this is your first appointment. Would you like to tell me a little about yourself?”

The question was so broad, Jane didn’t really know how to reply. “Well, uh...I guess I’m here because my roommate made me come.” The doctor’s expression was neutral and she didn’t reply, and Jane amended quickly, “Well, she’s not just my roommate, she’s my best friend. Dr. Isles.”

Dr. Hendrix smiled, “Ah, yes. I don’t know her personally, but I know her professionally, and I did see that she referred you.”

“Yeah,” Jane nodded, and then, unsure of what else to say, found herself admitting, “I lied to her this morning about coming here and I feel bad about that.”

“Why do you think you weren’t truthful?”

“I dunno. I just...didn’t want to talk about it, I guess.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know...I just…” Jane fumbled for the polite way to tell this woman that she really didn’t like her profession. “I didn’t really want to come here. But she made it part of my rent.”

To her surprise, Dr. Hendrix nodded, “That’s not an uncommon reaction to therapy. But you made an appointment, and you showed up. That’s certainly a mark in your favor.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll tell Maura later, but...just didn’t want to talk about it when I was already dreading it.”

Dr. Hendrix looked amused, “So you wouldn’t have come here on your own volition, but Dr. Isles clearly thought you might get something out of this. Why do you think that is?”

“I...I guess because I used to be a cop, and, you know...I’ve seen some stuff.”

“Sure,” Dr. Hendrix nodded, “That can be a very stressful profession.”

“More than a cop, I was a detective,” Jane felt the need to clarify.

“Impressive. And you’re no longer with the force?”

“Well, not right now. I tried a career switch and...it wasn’t for me. So I’m going back to school to get a better job in law enforcement.”

“That’s ambitious and commendable.”

“Uh, thanks,” Jane lapsed into silence again.

“So if you’re only here to humor your friend, I suppose we can talk about whatever you like,” Dr. Hendrix said.

Jane was confused. This was probably some head-shrinking tactic to get her to open up. “I mean...I thought I was supposed to talk about my problems or whatever.”

“Well, I’m not even sure if you even _have_ any problems, and since Dr. Isles isn’t here…” Dr. Hendrix shrugged.

Jane wrestled with the idea. She could, in theory, just sit in silence for the rest of the session.

“You said you’re planning to resume your career in law enforcement? I assume that’s something local here in Boston?”

“Yeah. BPD.”

“Is that how you know Dr. Isles?”

Jane nodded. “I worked pretty closely with Maura on most of my cases.”

“How long were you a detective with the Boston Police Department?”

Jane settled into talking about her professional career. Being a cop was something she was proud of, something she could easily discuss with a stranger. The rest of the session was a basic review of her time at BPD, managing to avoid mentioning any personal brushes with serial killers, and by the time Dr. Hendrix informed her that their time was up, Jane had been considering at least mentioning Frost’s untimely death.

She supposed it left something for next time.

If she felt like it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got this one out a little early, so Happy Halloween!

Jane groaned, slumping back into her chair. “I can’t believe how long a three-page paper takes to write.”

“This is why it’s recommended you begin writing it earlier than the night before it’s due,” said Maura from the spot where she reclined on the bed.

They were in Maura’s bedroom, as it was a quieter part of the house on a Sunday evening while Angela entertained the remaining Rizzolis downstairs. They were all long gone, by now, but there hadn’t been any desire to relocate once Jane picked up some momentum on her history paper. She was in her third week of the quarter and this was the first academic paper she’d had to write in twenty years, so she’d come to Maura for help. It was expected and Maura was prepared for it, having ordered the latest copies of the appropriate handbooks for MLA and APA formats.

Of course, Jane had barely looked at them and just insisted Maura tell her, “how to make it look right.”

But the paper was now finished and it was even before midnight, though just barely. Jane yawned and closed up her laptop with a gesture of finality, and then groaned as she rose from her chair. “Thanks for your help. Might actually get an A because of you.”

“Hey, you did all the research and actual writing. Give yourself some credit.”

Jane waved her hand, “Yeah, but I would’ve lost points if you hadn’t helped me with making sure the footnotes looked right and stuff.” She stretched, then grabbed her laptop and tucked it under her arm. “‘Well, g‘night.”

“Good night.” As the door shut behind Jane, Maura sighed, and fully stretched her limbs before sliding off the mattress. It was definitely time for bed, and she began her typical evening ritual of putting away jewelry, undressing, and then taking care of her nightly hygiene. She would shower in the morning after her run, so it wasn’t too long before she was getting back up onto her bed, slipping nude between her sheets.

Tired as she was, and late as it was, she wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep, because her mind was engulfed with the sense of Jane. They’d been working closely all evening, and though Maura was sure she had behaved normally, she’d definitely enjoyed their proximity. She hadn’t really been _ogling_ Jane, but in the moments when Jane was bent over her computer, Maura got a charge from watching her studious face--so much like her case face, and the way her simple t-shirt fit over her torso gave Maura just enough intrigue to let her imagine the t-shirt being peeled off and tossed on the floor.

In short, Maura was a bit wound up from spending her evening in close quarters with Jane with enough downtime to let her mind wander, and she knew if she wanted to have a restful sleep, she needed to orgasm. This was the only method of release she had in regard to this situation, because she couldn’t talk about it with Jane, obviously, and the next closest person in her life was Angela. There was absolutely no way she could justify speaking about her own sexual attraction with said object of attraction’s own mother. It would be exceedingly inappropriate, especially after Maura had lectured the Rizzoli family about boundaries.

So, for now, a quick fantasy before bed was the best way to vent these feelings.

Maura stretched out between the sheets, allowing the cool fabric to settle against her bare skin, one hand slipping down across her stomach. Usually, she imagined a scenario, like the blacksmithing scene, but in this moment, with Jane’s closeness so fresh in her mind, Maura simply wondered what it would be like for Jane to be right there in the bedroom with her.

“Maura,” Jane’s voice was quiet, but the low rasp was always unmistakeable. The fantasy was so clear, it was almost like she was actually hearing Jane speak. “Maura?”

Wait, that was _definitely_ Jane’s voice. Maura’s hand pulled away from between her legs and gripped the bed sheet. “Hmmm?”

“Sorry, I know you’re probably almost asleep already. I just forgot my book.”

The room was dark, but Maura didn’t even dare try look in Jane’s direction to even attempt to make anything out. “Okay,” she managed, keeping the covers clutched to her chest with her other fist.

“Thanks again for the help.” Footsteps padded toward the doorway. “Goodnight.”

Maura mumbled a, “Goodnight,” in response, then promptly covered her face with her pillow at the realization of how unhealthy her fixation with Jane had become.

Starting immediately, she was going to start dating, or at least having regular casual sex.

Maura slept poorly that night, both from lack of release and mortification of almost being caught, but she still rose at her normal hour to go for a run. She didn’t wake Jane, partly because Jane had been joining her for fewer runs since starting classes, but mostly because she still needed some time to wake up and fully sort her thoughts, and once she’d set out and was jogging at her preferred pace, she allowed herself to ruminate. What she had previously accepted as the only outlet for her attraction had become quite clearly unethical, and a part of her was embarrassed for thinking her actions were acceptable. She had now concluded that there was no way to properly compartmentalize her attraction to Jane, and that the only way forward was to leave her feelings behind, and from experience, she knew often the best way to do that was to sleep with someone else. Which had kind of been her plan for awhile, anyway, but now it would have to be expedited.

Intellectually, Maura knew the best way for an individual to end this kind of fixation would be complete abstinence from the second party. But that wasn’t possible or wanted. Also, given the fact that the primary issue was sexual, her plan was logical.

As she rounded the corner to head back toward her house, Maura was determined to make it work. Because if she didn’t there would be a much larger problem to wrestle with and didn’t even want to consider what it would take to solve it.

Inside, Angela was making french toast and Jane was standing next to the coffee machine, watching it drip. “Have a good run?” Jane asked her.

“Yes. Sorry I didn’t wake you, but we were up so late, I thought you might want to sleep in.”

Jane chuckled through the extra morning roughness in her voice. “Yeah, you were right.” She pulled the carafe out from under the stream of coffee to fill her mug before sitting at the kitchen island.

Maura took off her sweatshirt, already feeling flushed from the contrast of the cool morning air and her kitchen, warm and fragrant from breakfast scents. But the sight of Jane in a rumpled black v-neck pajama top with bedhead only strengthened her resolve, and she spoke, “Angela, I believe I have sufficiently recovered from my breakup with Gabriela and would like to begin dating again, if you have anyone in mind.”

Angela’s head whipped up, her expression alight with joy, “Why, yes, I most certainly do! Janie, grab my phone, I have a list in there.”

“A _list_ ,” Jane asked in disbelief, scowling, but nonetheless she reached for Angela’s phone.

“I could start one for you, too, if you’re interested.”

“Absolutely not,” Jane deadpanned, “Please never do that.”

“A mother can dream!”

Jane didn’t reply at first, though her scowl seemed to deepen as she looked at the phone. “ _Giovanni_? He’s the top of the list?!”

“Oh, relax, he’s a nice boy.” Angela waved her spatula at Jane. “And they’re not in any order.”

“Ma, he licked Maura _on the face_.”

Angela looked to Maura, who shrugged. “It’s true. We did once attempt a…connection.” She didn’t really care to get into the details, because it would open up several other conversations about information that she and Jane had tacitly agreed not to disclose to Angela. “It turns out we weren’t compatible.”

“Eh,” Angela didn’t seem fazed. “He’s not the most well-read guy, I’ll admit.”

“Here, this one’s a doctor.” Jane waved the phone at Maura. “Probably nice and boring. You can go to a ton of lectures about bacteria or ancient Roman art or something.”

“Dr. Holtzmann? Oh, Maura. I really think you’d like her. Jane, watch the skillet for a second.” Angela abandoned the stove and began to dig in her purse.

Maura knew she didn’t need someone of an equal intellectual status, especially for a largely physical connection, but she did admit that it was nice to be around someone who shared similar interests. “You know, intelligent bacteria are fascinating. Did you know they can be programmed to detect disease?”

“Great, just what we need,” Jane crossed her eyes. “Bacteria with brains.”

“Here!” Angela produced a postcard-sized flyer from her purse and handed it to Maura. “Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. She’s speaking this weekend at a science thing.”

Maura expected Jane to have some kind of retort, but she appeared to be wholly invested in cooking her french toast. She looked over the information on the paper Angela had given her. “Oh, fascinating. An Exploration of the Many-Worlds Interpretation,” read Maura. “Jane, you might actually find this interesting.” It wasn’t until after Maura extended the casual invitation that she realized it would be bad form to bring Jane along to a lecture being given by a potential sexual partner. However, it wasn’t as if Maura would be interacting with Dr. Holtzmann until afterward and--

“I have enough to worry about with just the one world and all my classes, but thanks.” Jane’s dry interruption of Maura’s rambling thought process was enough to jar her back to the moment.

“I think it sounds very educational,” said Angela as she elbowed Jane away from the stove to regain control of the breakfast preparation.

“You should join me,” suggested Maura.

“Ma, since when are you into quantum physics?”

Maura shot a pleased glance at Jane, happily surprised she knew anything at all about the topic. “You’re familiar with quantum mechanics?”

Jane shrugged. “Familiar enough to know that quantum physics and quantum mechanics are the same thing because of those documentaries I’ve had to fall asleep to over the years.”

Angela slid a plate full of food in front of Jane, which immediately occupied her. “Well, I may not be sleeping to any documentaries, but I think it’s nice to get some education every now and then. Maura, I’d love to attend the lecture with you.”

“I’d enjoy that very much, Angela.” For as much as Maura spent time around Angela at home or the bar, it wasn’t often that they went out together. They’d gone to a movie together a few times when Jane was living in DC, but aside from catching an occasional lunch or dinner out, they didn’t generally make plans to do things, just the two of them.

“And I did exactly what you told me,” said Angela, “I noticed her noticing you, so I made sure to mention that you were also a doctor and would be interested in attending.”

“I was there?” Maura asked, trying to recall anyone who might match her mental expectation of what Dr. Holtzmann might look like.

“You and Kent were meeting with Frankie about a case. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Okay, so you two are going to a science lecture. How exactly is this going to turn into a date for Maura?” Jane narrowed her eyes at them.

“Oh, there’s always a meet and greet after, and as a donor, I’ll be able to facilitate a personal connection,” Maura felt herself smiling in anticipation. If Dr. Holtzmann was already superficially interested, then perhaps luck was on her side.

As Jane ate her breakfast, Maura poured herself a cup of coffee and Angela excused herself to the guest house.

“I don’t want to pry, but I did want to ask how you’re feeling about seeing Dr. Hendrix,” Maura said, leaning a bit on the counter as she sipped her coffee. When Jane had finally disclosed to her about attending her first therapy session, Maura had been pleased to hear about the choice of doctor.

“You sound like her with all the, ‘how are you feeling about this?’ stuff,” Jane mumbled through a mouthful of french toast. “Next you’re going to tell me about how valid my feelings are.” There was a hint of annoyance in Jane’s tone, perhaps not directed at Maura but at her general feelings about the therapy process itself. “It’s fine. She’s not the worst.”

“That’s a glowing recommendation from you,” said Maura. “I honestly was hoping you’d select her, given her background.”

“In what?”

“Law enforcement.”

Jane’s head lifted, her expression surprised and intrigued. “She didn’t tell me about that.”

“It’s generally not the practice of a therapist to talk much about themselves,” Maura replied, a touch wryly.

“Then how would I know that?” Jane gestured at Maura with her fork to emphasize her apparent testiness.

“It’s on her website biography.”

“Huh.” Jane chewed her food for a moment, “Well, she’s alright, I guess.”

Maura supposed this meant therapy was going about as well as it could for Jane, and aware of Jane’s moodiness, dropped the subject, and glanced down at the flyer again.

Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. Maura wondered eagerly what meeting her would be like.

* * *

 

It was midterms week, which meant additional stress for Jane. Honestly, they weren’t as daunting as she feared; many of them were online, and open-book, but that meant Jane was reading over all her notes so she would at least know where to look for answers she didn’t remember. But aside from the essay she’d finished Sunday night with Maura’s help, Jane had another writing assignment to worry about, and a midterm that did include an in-class essay, both of which she truly dreaded. She felt like she had just started classes and hadn’t even had time to retain anything yet, but somehow the quarter was already almost half over.

She figured this was the reason she was so short with her mother and Maura when they insisted on chatting and planning their weekend at the science lecture right in front of her, at least until Wednesday, when she had taken her in-class essay and submitted the other paper she’d had to write. The rest of her week was relatively smooth sailing, just one more test, yet even Angela mentioning offhand that she was excited for Maura to meet Dr. Holtzmann made Jane irritable.

At therapy the next morning, Dr. Hendrix began, “So, last week we talked a lot about what your life was like in DC. Did you want to pick up where we left off?”

“Nah,” Jane muttered, “I don’t feel like talking about that.” She sometimes felt a little guilty about abandoning her job and her life in DC so suddenly, and felt ashamed about the fact that she had definitely failed at being an FBI instructor, but found she hadn’t been thinking about it that much this week, and didn’t see the point of dredging up those feelings. As the silence stretched for a moment, Jane said, “Maura told me you used to be in law enforcement.”

Dr. Hendrix’s head tilted to one side, “Yes, I was a police officer for a few years, but ultimately decided I would prefer a different career path, a different way of helping people.”

“What does it say about me that trying to do that failed?” Jane asked with a grimace. Well, maybe something got dredged up anyway.

“It doesn’t say anything. Some people belong in law enforcement. I didn’t. Maybe you do, though. That is what you want to do, right?”

“Yeah. I just...feel like I could do more good getting the bad guys off the streets than teaching other people to do it.”

Dr. Hendrix nodded. “And I came to similar conclusions about my career. Listen, I know that law enforcement and the justice system in general are suspicious of those who need mental health services. But, Jane, there’s also a difference between need and want. You may not _need_ my help--you seem like you have your life pretty on track--but if talking to me is helping you, and making it possible for you to have a happier life...then I’m doing good in the world, and facilitating you to do good in the world.”

“I guess,” Jane said, already losing interest in the subject. She did like that Dr. Hendrix seemed to have respect and understanding for her former career, but it was hard to fathom preferring _this_ to catching criminals. At least Maura was a doctor who caught criminals, too. But the thought of Maura brought to mind the weekend science lecture, and Jane felt that little surge of...upset. That was the best word for it.

The silence was stretching, and Dr. Hendrix asked, “So, what’s on your mind this week?”

“Nothing,” Jane grunted, but before too long, she sagged, and said, “It’s stupid. But my mother’s trying to set Maura up with someone and...I don’t know. It bugs me.”

“What bothers you about it? Is it your mother’s involvement?” They had touched on the fact that Jane felt she needed better boundaries with her mother, though not in a lot of detail.

“No, I don’t think so. If she’s setting Maura up with people, at least she’s not bugging me about dating some gross dude she met at work.” Jane sighed, “I guess it’s just maybe Maura dating again. I mean, she doesn’t have the best track record. She dated a serial killer once, and another guy framed her for murder...I dunno, I guess I just worry about her.”

“Okay, so this isn’t about your mother, or feeling left out, it’s about Maura. Is this the first person she’s dated in awhile?”

“Well, I mean, sort of. She was seeing someone briefly and I think it had been a while before that. But she’s Maura, I mean, she…” she paused, trying to decide how much to disclose to someone who apparently knew Maura professionally, but Dr. Hendrix had been nothing _but_ professional. “She’s good at the casual sex thing,” Jane finally said, though she rushed to add, “Which, I mean, more power to her. I don’t judge her.”

“What happens when Maura is serious about someone?”

Jane shrugged, “I dunno, she’s only ever been serious about like one guy since I’ve known her. And that was fine, I liked him.”

“But this date bothers you?”

Jane felt agitated, frustrated, that she was feeling so upset just talking about this but couldn’t find the words to say _why_. “Well, this woman could be _anyone_. And okay, like, Maura usually dates men, but I don’t have a problem with her being with women, either, so I don’t think it’s that. I just want her to be happy.”

“Well, it does seem your worry is somewhat justified if dating has landed her into danger before. But do you have any evidence that the person she’s being set up with is dangerous?”

“No,” Jane muttered, “And Ma is going with her.”

“So maybe you’ll feel better after the date is over to confirm that Maura is safe and you’ll know whether or not this person makes her happy.”

“Sure, maybe.” But that thought didn’t make Jane feel any better. She shook her head, “I dunno. It just...bugs me.”

“Your instincts are to keep the people around you safe. It’s natural that someone new would concern you.”

That seemed true, too, but didn’t alleviate the feeling in Jane’s gut. But she didn’t want to talk about it anymore, either, so she said, “Maybe I’m seeing danger where there isn’t anything. I guess…” she hesitated, and thought about mentioning that kid in DC, the one she was sure was following her. But then she just said, “I guess maybe I need to hone that skill again if I want to get back into law enforcement.”

That pushed them into the concept of anxiety in general, which wasn’t any more enjoyable to talk about, but at least she was done thinking about Maura’s stupid date.

* * *

 

Later that evening, as Maura anticipated Jane’s return from class, she wrestled with how to confront her friend on a particular issue that was beginning to grate on her.

Nearly the second the door opened, Maura met Jane with, “We need to talk about something.”

“Uh, okay,” said Jane, looking anxious as she hung her jacket in the coat closet. The action alone made Maura feel a little guilty about what was concerning her, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from saying something.

“I found this in your bathroom.” Maura indicated to a small salad plate that sat on the kitchen island.

“Why were you in my bathroom?”

“That closet is where I keep the extra toilet tissue. Or was. My reason for going in there as to move it to the linen closet in the downstairs hall.”

“Okay,” Jane edged past Maura to retrieve the plate, then placed it in the sink. “Is this better?”

Maura drew in a deep breath, trying to center through momentary meditation. “I’ve overlooked that you snack in your bedroom, even though it’s technically against the house rules. I know you’re up late, trying to study and I don’t particularly have any interest in controlling your life.”

“But…”

“But, eating in the bathroom in unsanitary.”

“It was toast and I was trying to finish while I dried my hair.”

Maura considered that it wasn’t a worst case scenario. She didn’t generally care what Jane did on her own time, as long as the house was kept in decent order. They’d been friends long enough for Maura to recognize what was worth the energy to present as problematic. Perhaps it was the anticipation of a possible date over the weekend that was making her behave this way.

But there was also another issue to address.

“What about your socks?” “What about them?” Jane glanced down at her still sneaker-clad feet.

Maura lifted one of the sofa cushions to reveal several socks wedged against the arm. “I expect this from TJ, not you.”

“I’m still getting used to sharing the space,” Jane admitted.

“In all the time we’ve known each other, I don’t think I’ve ever found any of your socks in my furniture.”

“No, but I guarantee there were some under the cushions when you came to visit me.”

“That was in _your_ space, the couch is...communal space.” Maura caught herself before she actually said “ _my_ space,” realizing the split second before she said it that it wasn’t simply hers anymore, not really.

Jane looked at her shrewdly, perhaps able to guess what Maura had almost revealed, but ultimately she just said, “I’ve been studying for midterms all week on the couch and my feet get hot. I didn’t mean to leave them, I just forgot.”

“Just try to remember next time,” Maura’s voice was already losing some of its edge. She felt bad that she’d forgotten about Jane’s midterms. “How are midterms going?”

“Fine. I took my last test today.”

“Oh. Well, congratulations.”

“Maybe save that for after I get the results,” Jane replied dryly. Finally, her shoulders sagged a little, “Look, I’m sorry about, uh, being messy. I always knew that we have different standards about how lived in spaces should look, but, I mean, I do try not to leave dishes in the sink and stuff.”

“I know you do. It’s just an adjustment for both of us,” Maura replied. Jane leaned on the kitchen island across from her and it took Maura a moment to realize her gaze had settled on Jane’s strong forearms and dextrous fingers, and suddenly it clicked for her that the primary source of her frustration with Jane was sexual. It should have been obvious. But that, combined with the excited nerves of possibly meeting someone with whom she might have an intellectual and sexual connection had Maura on edge. “I’m sorry I invaded your space, and snapped. I suppose I’m a bit stressed.” It was the only apology Maura felt it was appropriate to discuss.

Jane raised her eyebrow, “It’s my mother, isn’t it? She’s being insufferable about this weekend.”

Surprised, Maura shook her head. “No, Angela’s fine, though I will admit, being eager for this weekend is part of what’s making me...frustrated.”

Jane gave her a blank look, then her expression changed slightly before it was quickly smoothed over into blank once again. Jane had a pretty good poker face, but Maura was adept at reading her friend. Jane’s eyes dropped awkwardly, as they almost always did when the subject of sex came up. “Isn’t that what your _erotic_ writings are for?” She spoke the word “erotic” in an airy sort of way that emphasized its taboo nature.

Maura wanted to laugh, because she couldn’t concentrate on _those_ either, not without risking a foray into inappropriate thoughts about Jane. “Perhaps, though I am a little behind schedule with where I want to be in my novel.”

“Well, I have to start reading for class tomorrow. You believe that? We just took tests and already on to the next thing.” Jane sighed and stuck her head into the fridge. “Have dinner yet?”

“No, what did you have in mind?”

“I was gonna make grilled cheese. And I’ll clean up after myself,” she added with a smirk.

Maura laughed softly, already feeling better having vented at least part of her frustration in cohabiting with Jane. “Grilled cheese sounds great, actually.” Jane nodded, and gestured to Maura to sit down as she prepared dinner for them both.

The week wound down without much excitement. Jane was much more relaxed with her midterm exams having been completed and though she expressed some anxiety over the results, she was content to pester Maura into watching an action movie with her on Friday night. The event evolved into something of a family affair when Angela disclosed to Maura that her three children used to drive her to near insanity with the amount of times the teenagers rented this particular movie from the video store and promptly invited her other two children to come over. By the time the opening credits of _Robocop_ were on the screen, they were surrounded by pizza and beer, with TJ content in a pillow fort in Jane’s bedroom, watching something more animated and less violent.

Saturday afternoon, Jane left with Tommy and TJ to a Red Sox game, a congratulatory gift for getting through her first round of exams for the quarter. Maura also knew the Rizzolis didn’t need major milestones as a reason to head to Fenway.

She appreciated the quiet and empty house as she prepared for her evening with a soak in the bath and an assessment of her wardrobe.

Choosing what to wear was something of a daily meditation combined with a mathematical equation. Certain pieces in a particular combination were meant to yield a specific result, either professionally or personally. Tonight, she chose something that balanced both her professional interest in the educational aspect of the lecture, and her personal interest in getting to know Dr. Holtzmann herself.

Angela was home in time for them to eat dinner together before heading out to MIT for the lecture. They arrived early enough to find seats toward the front of the auditorium-style lecture hall, though the first few rows were reserved for upper level physics students. As the seats around them began to fill up, Maura noticed a small cluster of people approaching the front of the room, where they stood talking off to the side of the video screen. Almost immediately, Angela nudged her with her elbow and whispered forcefully, “That’s her!”

Maura twisted a little in her seat to get a better look at the shorter woman, but it wasn’t until one of the men she was talking to broke off to apparently check the audio visual equipment that she was able to get a good look. “That’s Dr. Holtzmann?”

She was younger than Maura had imagined, though not too young for Maura to be interested, and her hair was unruly and blonde. Maura’s first impression was that her dress sense was quite eccentric. Though Maura herself would never consider such attire to be appropriate for a professional setting, she recognized in the other woman a similar knack for communicating through state of dress, though Maura couldn’t be sure exactly what the meaning would be.

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice her at the bar when the night she was there,” Maura commented to Angela, “She...stands out.”

“I know, she looks like a mad scientist, right? I hope that’s not offensive,” Angela glanced around furtively. “But she’s very charming.”

“I’m certainly looking forward to getting to know her,” Maura watched her conversing at the front of the room as the seats gradually filled, almost to capacity.

The lecture itself was quite interesting. Dr. Holtzmann had a sort of wry lecture style and was prone to tangents, but her information and delivery was quite engaging. She was also quite good at explaining challenging concepts using analogies that, judging from the hums Angela was making, meant that even the less academically inclined could keep up, though the finer details of her theories were enough to make Maura’s head swim a bit. In all, though, it was an enjoyable and fascinating presentation that had Angela declaring at the end, “Well, I learned a _lot_!”

“So did I. I have always accepted that infinite space implied infinite adjacent unreachable universe possibilities, but I’d never considered the implications many worlds might have for the origin and demise of universes.” Maura enjoyed quantum physics theories, but as they had little practical application in her life, she didn’t study them the same way she did other branches of science.

“Sure gives me a lot to think about,” Angela agreed, watching as Dr. Holtzmann was ushered off to the adjacent faculty lounge where the meet and greet was to take place, closely followed by a cluster of the luckiest upper-level physics students. Dr. Holtzmann scanned the crowd and noticed Angela, who waved. Her expression lit up in a grin and she locked eyes with Maura for a moment before turning her attention back to the people she was with. Angela looked at Maura with a coy smile, “Are you going to go talk to her?”

“Yes, but I’ll let the students have their time first.” Maura was in no rush. The fewer obligations Dr. Holtzmann had left, the more time Maura would be able to spend with her.

“Well, I suppose that’s the closest I’ll get to actually introducing you two, so...I’ll be on my way. Maybe Janie’s back from that ball game.”

“I appreciate you telling me about this lecture and accompanying me,” Maura hugged Angela.

“Thank me later, after you take Dr. Holtzmann out for drinks or whatever,” Angela winked.

Maura wasn’t sure what the evening had in store as she casually made her way toward the lounge, trying not to rush. Nerves were rarely, if ever, a problem for her when it came to personal interactions as she had a secure sense of self-confidence in her intelligence and appearance. This particular meeting simply had Maura somewhat anxious because of what it possibly meant for her libido. Her need to get out and date was directly tied to keeping a healthy relationship with Jane. But tonight wasn’t about Jane.

Just as she slipped through the door of the faculty lounge, there was a buzz from Maura’s purse. Kent was handing all information on the current case at the precinct, but it wasn’t until the cell phone was in her hand that Maura remembered she didn’t need to field any calls from BPD. When she glanced at the screen, it wasn’t even a missed call, but a notification that Jane had made a move on Words with Friends. She considered opening the app and playing a round, just to pass a few more minutes and to allow the students their full time with Dr. Holtzmann, but she noticed someone was already approaching her.

“You can’t possibly be one of the students.” It was Dr. Holtzmann and she was now standing right in front of Maura. “Faculty?”

“No. Well, correct in that I’m not a student, but I’m not associated with the university.” Maura offered her hand, which was quickly accepted in a firm, warm handshake. “Dr. Maura Isles.”

“Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. It’s quite the pleasure to meet you, Dr. Isles.” There was a certain drawl to the way she spoke that immediately charmed Maura.

“That lecture was outstanding. Physics is a hobby of mine and the field of quantum mechanics is endlessly fascinating.”

“A hobby, but not a profession?” considered Dr. Holtzmann. “May I ask what you’re a doctor of, Dr. Isles?”

“Forensics. I’m the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.” Wanting to steer the conversation toward a more personal tone, she added, “And please, call me Maura.”

“Then please feel free to call me Jillian. Or Holtzmann. It’s rarely ever Doctor anywhere but in a lecture hall.” Jillian leaned against one of the varnished bookshelves as she studied Maura with intrigue in her eyes. “Chief Medical Examiner? Then we’re in a similar line of work.”

“I don’t know that I see what forensics has to do with quantum theory.”

“Oh that’s just fun stuff. My daily work is more in line with the metaphysical.” Seeing that Maura was still attempting to follow the line of thought, Jillian continued, though her voice was low, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her, “You work with the dead, I work with the dead… who aren’t particularly happy about being dead.”

Suddenly, several of the pieces clicked for Maura. “Is this a theory you’ve developed studying the many-worlds theory?”

“Something like that.” Jillian glanced over her shoulder at the other academics milling around the lounge. “I’d love to talk to you about it, but this place, ironically, kind of creeps me out. How do you feel about touring the robotics lab?”

“I would _love_ that,” said Maura, ignoring the slight sense of impropriety she felt at pulling Jillian away from the reception. That sensation quickly diminished to nothing when Jillian opened the door for her and ushered her out into the hall.

* * *

 

Jane ended up going to bed early on Saturday night, a bit worn out from trying to keep TJ entertained during the baseball game, and also bored since Maura and Angela weren’t home. She played a move in Words with Friends, vaguely hoping that Maura might have time to respond and a little disappointed when no countermove was forthcoming, but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

She was consequently up early on Sunday morning, and padded downstairs, well-rested. No one else seemed to be up yet. Jane wondered if maybe Maura was out for a run, and put on some coffee.

While she waited, she decided to take advantage of the quiet morning and curled up into the corner of the couch with her English assignment and started reading while the coffee perked.

It was exceedingly dull, but Jane tried to read while she worked her way through her first cup of coffee. By the time her first cup was gone, Angela had come up from the guest house. “Morning, Ma!” Jane called from the couch.

“You’re up early,” Angela commented, coming over to look at her. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, just trying to do my homework,” Jane responded a bit testily.

“It’s my job to worry about you,” Angela replied in her own defense, crossing back over to the kitchen. “Had any breakfast?”

“Not yet.”

“One bunny pancake, coming right up.”

Jane sighed tolerantly, “Thanks, Ma.”

“How was the game?” Angela asked as Jane heard the clang of the skillet on the stove.

Jane lowered her book. Didn’t her mother realize she was trying to read her homework? “It was fine. Good defense all game, though, which meant not a lot of runners for TJ to get excited about. He’s still learning.”

“You all will teach him, I’m sure,” Angela replied dryly. “Any plans for today?”

Jane closed her book. She probably wasn’t going to get much more reading done until Angela left. “I dunno, I’m waiting for Maura to get up so I can ask her about this book we’re supposed to read.” She dropped the book on the couch next to her and stood up to go sit at the island.

Angela chuckled, “Oh, she’s probably sleeping in today, I imagine she had a late night last night with Dr. Holtzmann.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Jane.

“Ma-a,” Jane replied in annoyance.

“What? I set them up, let me enjoy my victory.”

“Whatever,” Jane muttered, glancing toward the staircase. “Do you know what time she came in?”

“No idea, I left them after the lecture and wasn’t up too late.”

“I didn’t hear her either,” Jane replied, her gaze settling this time in the direction of the staircase. Maura hadn’t texted her when she’d come home, nor had she ever received a response in Words With Friends. It had been ritual to text each other when they were home when Jane lived in DC, but now that they were cohabitating, maybe the rules changed.

But Jane felt a prickle of doubt. The house had seemed _empty_ this morning, and already the three worst scenarios that had already occurred ran through Jane’s mind: Maura had dated a serial killer, Maura had been drugged and framed for murder, Maura had been kidnapped. Her foot slipped off the rung of the tall island chair and she stood up to go check Maura’s bedroom, but almost immediately the front door opened, and Jane’s head whipped around.

Maura strode in wearing a rumpled skirt and heels, and Jane’s eyebrows climbed to her hairline. “Either you started jogging in pumps, or this is a walk of shame.”

“First of all, these are technically kitten heels, and secondly, there is no shame in my walk, because I had a great night.” Maura strode over to the desk to put down her purse and then leaned on the kitchen island facing both Angela and Jane, grinning widely.

“So, a good date, huh?” Jane asked warily.

“I want _all_ the details,” Angela slapped a bunny pancake on a plate and slathered on a butter smile, but her attention was on Maura as she pushed the plate toward Jane, whose appetite had suddenly abated somewhat.

“Ma, you do not,” Jane grumbled.

“What if I do? I’m open-minded!” Angela protested.

“Let’s just say,” Maura said slowly, “That I got a _very_ thorough tour of the robotics lab.”

“The robotics lab?” Jane’s interest was piqued, “That sounds so coo--wait, that’s not a euphemism, is it?”

“Not entirely,” Maura laughed, glancing at Angela.

Angela noticed, “All right, I can take a hint, I’ll leave you two to your girly talk. Maura, I’m thrilled you had a good time.”

“Thank you, Angela. I really enjoyed getting to know Jillian.”

Angela looked pleased, and left muttering something about “first-name basis” as she left through the courtyard door.

Jane started digging into her pancake, “So, the robotics lab.” In part, she was maybe a little jealous because, well, real-life robots. But then, she was certain that wasn’t the extent of the evening if Maura was just now coming home at this hour.

“Oh, Jane, you would love it. I don’t even know how to explain some of what I saw, but they are on the cutting edge of technology. And more importantly, it has been a _long_ time since I’ve been so thoroughly orally pleasured.”

“ _Maura_ ,” Jane’s mouth was full, but she was a bit shocked by Maura’s bluntness. Still, she couldn’t help clarifying, “ _In_ the robotics lab?”

Maura laughed, “Yes, and then we went for drinks at her hotel and it was...just easier to stay there.” She looked at Jane for a moment, who was at a complete loss for words. “Sorry if that was...a lot, but I’m exhausted and...I think I’d better go take a shower and a power nap.”

“That...sounds like a plan. Uh, do you think I could get away with just watching the movie instead of reading _Gulliver’s Travels_?” Jane wanted to at least get her question in before Maura disappeared.

“Of course not,” Maura scoffed. “I’ll be happy to discuss the novel when I’ve had some rest, though.”

“Sure,” Jane replied sullenly, “Well, glad you had a good time.”

“ _Me, too_ ,” Maura replied emphatically, her face settling into bliss again before a yawn escaped her, “Sorry. I’ll be down later.” And with that, Maura headed upstairs, leaving Jane staring down at her shredded pancake, her appetite gone.

* * *

 

Around five-thirty on Sunday evening, Maura returned from an afternoon outing to find Jane on the couch, watching television. She was tired, having only slept a few hours that morning before waking and going about her day.

“Finally, you’re back,” said Jane. “What, were you running every errand twice?”

“I wasn’t running errands,” Maura admitted. She certainly hadn’t lied about where she was going, but when Jane asked about her plans when she’d left the house earlier, she’d just told Jane she was “going out for a bit,” which did generally serve as loosely coded language for handling mundane tasks. “Jillian is on her way back to New York, so I stopped by to see her for a late lunch.”

Jane absorbed the information, then shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth from the bowl that sat on her lap. “New York, huh?”

“Yes,” Maura replied. She carefully removed her heels and placed them next to the stairs before walking over to the sofa. “She was only here in Boston for the lecture.”

“Does that mean you’ll be making a lot of trips down there?”

Maura contemplated what could be waiting for her in New York. “It would certainly be interesting to see her lab, as she’s a brilliant engineer.” But she was quick to understand that Jane wasn’t asking about her scientific interests. “It’s not serious,” she confirmed as she sat next to Jane.

“No? It really sounded like you had a great time.”

“I did. And I could listen to her theories for hours.” Maura smirked. “I could probably do a lot of things--” Jane was cringing, so Maura shifted and grabbed a small handful of popcorn. “I had fun. And if she’s ever back in town, I’ll probably have fun, again.”

“You know what’s not fun? Trying to read a stuffy old book when there’s a perfectly good Jack Black movie about it.”

Fortunately, Jane’s lacking attention span kept things moving so any potential awkwardness that may have come from Maura’s sex life was quickly pushed aside. “ _Jane_ ,” Maura picked up the DVD case that sat on the coffee table. “This can’t possibly be an accurate depiction of the novel.”

“Then how about you watch it with me and tell me what parts are missing?”

“This is obviously an attempt to avoid the assigned reading,” but Maura allowed herself to accept the edge of the shared blanket Jane offered her. She felt content and sated from the weekend and being here, on the couch, with Jane felt the way it always had over the duration of their friendship. Her plan to reassign her sexual interest and desire to someone else had worked. Pleased with the results, Maura settled back and watched the film, as ridiculous as it was, and even managed to save all of her comments on all of its inconsistencies with the original text until the credits began to roll.

* * *

 

“I really think you might actually like _Jane Eyre_ ,” Maura insisted. She had spent the ride home from their shared class trying to get Jane excited about the upcoming readings from the Romantic period. “It also is the origin of a trope that became an important piece of feminist literary theory.”

“Yeah, that sounds...interesting,” Jane tried as she let them into the house.

“The Romantic period actually had several prominent female writers, which is significant,” Maura pointed out.

“That might actually be a nice change of pace, if the stories are any good,” Jane admitted as they climbed the stairs.

“You’ll probably like _Frankenstein_ , too.”

“Is it anything like _Young Frankenstein_?” Jane asked playfully, stopping at her bedroom door.

Maura opened her mouth to reply, then paused, “Okay, you know it isn’t, right?”

Jane laughed, “I know. Oh, I still need to take my quiz for tomorrow. I’m gonna go downstairs and take care of that after I put on my pajamas.”

“I think I’m about ready for bed, myself,” Maura replied, “Well, good night, Jane.”

“Night, Maura.”

Things felt mostly back to normal since Maura’s date that weekend. Jane didn’t really know why, but she’d been uncomfortable hearing about it. Knowing that it wasn’t serious with Dr. Holtzmann, or _Jillian_ , helped some, but Jane tried to just avoid thinking about it, and thankfully, Maura hadn’t really talked about it since the weekend. Jane was just being jealous, she figured, selfishly worrying that a new partner would mean less time with her best friend.

Downstairs, she filled a glass of water and settled on the sofa, the place she had done most of her studying since Maura had advised against studying where she slept. Maura also said that taking tests in the same space where you studied tended to help with recall, and though the quiz was open book, it helped to remember where to look. Jane opened the school website, her book and her notes, and started the quiz.

She was about halfway through, sure of each answer, when her phone buzzed on the table. She picked it up, just curious enough to interrupt her quiz to read the late-night message from Maura.

**If we’re being honest, I’d have to admit that I’m thinking about what it would be like if you were back up here and in bed with me.**

She was quick to set the phone back down, her initial need to look at it simply being one of curiosity, but then she looked back down at the screen. What did that mean? What was Maura admitting? Where was this coming from?

Jane glanced at her quiz. It was timed, but there were still fifteen minutes left and she only had five more questions to go. Her attention went back to the text.

But before she could consider how to respond, another text buzzed through.

**Please disregard the previous missive, as it did not reach its intended recipient.**

And then, three embarrassed face emojis appeared. Jane put the pieces together. The message was meant for Holtzmann, who Maura wished was back up in Boston, not for Jane, downstairs, and clearly not invited to join Maura in bed.

She picked up the phone to reply.

**Obviously**

She included a smiley face to show that nothing was wrong, and turned her attention back to her quiz.

But as she finished the last few questions of her quiz, she couldn’t quite stop thinking about the text. She closed her computer and made her way back upstairs to her own bed, and as she slid between her sheets, she was left with her thoughts.

She fell into restless sleep, unable to stop thinking about the text that wasn’t for her, unable to really say why it stayed on her mind.

The next morning, Jane headed to her weekly therapy appointment, still feeling a little groggy, waiting for coffee to kick in. Her thoughts felt pretty disorganized as she sat in the armchair facing Dr. Hendrix, who regarded her genially.

“How was your week?” Dr. Hendrix asked by way of greeting.

“Pretty good. I watched an old favorite movie with my family and Maura, and went to a baseball game with my brother and my nephew, to celebrate finishing midterms.” It had been a pretty good week, actually, she thought, which didn’t explain why she felt so jumbled.

“Right, last week you were finishing up your midterms and were a bit stressed out about those. How did that go?”

“Oh, uh, that went fine. I got most of my grades back and I did fine.”

“That’s good. You were also concerned about Maura’s date, and I presume that went okay?” Dr. Hendrix looked almost amused, but not at Jane’s expense. A reassuring humor, shared over Jane’s only half-irrational fear that Maura on a date could mean Maura in danger.

“Yeah, uh...she survived.” Jane tried to smile, to ward off the awkwardness she felt at the line of inquiry.

“That’s good, so you’re feeling better about it?”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess.” Jane tried to think if there was anything more to say about Maura’s date. It felt like there was, but she didn’t know what.

“And things are going okay living so close to your mother?”

“Yeah, that’s been fine,” Jane couldn’t really be interested in talking about her mother, and found herself blurting, “Like, Maura’s date was fine, and she was safe, but it still bothers me.”

Dr. Hendrix blinked, then replied, “It does?”

“Yeah, and I dunno, it doesn’t make sense. Dr. Holtzmann is back in New York or wherever she’s from, and Maura says it’s not serious, and I researched her as best I can and she seems legit, so like, there’s no reason for me to worry. But I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Are you still worried about Maura?”

“No...I mean, I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel like that. I don’t know what it is. And then last night I got a weird text from Maura but it turns out she meant to send it to Dr. Holtzmann and it was, like, a sext. And that bugs me, too.”

“What about it bothers you? That Maura is sexting someone, or that it seemed like it was meant for you?”

“Well, I don’t know, neither, or both maybe. I don’t really care what Maura does in private, that’s her business, but it was weird because I didn’t know how to respond when I thought it was for me.” It was spilling out, the thing most clouding up her jumbled head, so close to the surface of her thoughts that she had to get Dr. Hendrix’s perspective.

“Well, messages like that are either expected or unexpected, and this was clearly unexpected. Were you worried about hurting your friend’s feelings?”

Jane hadn’t even thought of that. “No, I...hadn’t even really gotten that far, I was just...confused.”

“It seems to me that, whether expected or not, typically one’s reaction to such a message is either accepting or rejecting, but you’re not sure where you fall?”

“I...don’t really know, it was just weird.”

“Weird because Maura is your friend, or because she’s a woman?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Are you attracted to Maura?”

Caught off guard, Jane stammered, “I...I mean, she’s attractive, sure.”

Dr. Hendrix was quiet for a moment, while Jane wasn’t sure what else to say, and finally, the therapist asked, “Have you ever been attracted to a woman before?”

Jane hadn’t really anticipated this line of inquiry, and was at a loss for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. I don’t really...you know, date a lot, but I’ve only ever dated guys.”

“So you’re attracted to men?”

“Sure, I mean, I guess so.” She was surprised by the lack of enthusiasm in her own voice.

“You guess so?”

“I mean, when you think about people’s bodies too much it gets gross, like, men have weird body hair and like, lumpy torsos, but they’re fine, I like them.”

Dr. Hendrix was quiet for another moment, then asked, “Does it get gross if you think about Maura’s body?”

“That’s...weird. And inappropriate.”

“Why?”

“She’s my friend. That would be crossing a boundary.” It felt like a very good reason to halt this train of thought.

“Okay. What about someone else? A different woman?”

Jane shrugged. “It’s not really something I think about.”

“What if, sometime this week, you give yourself a moment to think about how you feel about men’s bodies versus how you feel about women’s bodies?”

“Do I have to?” The thought of such an exercise already felt humiliating.

“Only if you want to understand your feelings about them.”

Jane supposed that was practical. “If I promise to do that, can we talk about something else?”

“Of course.”

“I guess I could talk to you about my former partner.”

“Romantic or on the job?”

“At BPD. His name was Barry Frost. He was my friend and I still really miss him.”

The heaviness of the rest of the session kept the conversation from moving back toward Maura. Jane had barely tapped into her feelings about Frost’s death by the end of the appointment, but she had to admit that talking about him, sharing stories of their time together, was something that made her feel better. Maybe therapy wasn’t total crap.

* * *

 

On Friday afternoon, Maura returned home with a small window of time to clean up from the autopsy lab and have dinner before heading out to a rotation at the clinic. When she entered the front door, the lights were on in the living room and music was playing from somewhere she couldn’t quite place, though she did recognize that it was a Foreigner song.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” came Jane’s voice from behind the kitchen island.

Maura stepped around the counter to find Jane on the floor, head and shoulders under the sink. “What’s all this? Did something break?” She found the source of the music, which was Jane’s phone, and turned it down a few notches.

“No,” Jane eased out from her hidden position so she was now in full view. She was down to a tank top, which was damp from whatever she was working on. “Well, not yet. Hold on.” She glanced back at her work, her arms still under the sink as she finished tightening something and Maura couldn’t ignore the subtle flexing of Jane’s biceps. “You know that weird metal sound this thing’s been making all week?”

“I do.” Maura had pointed it out to Jane on Tuesday, fully intent on asking Tommy to take a look at it the next time she saw him.

“It was a bad blade.” Jane sat up to better see Maura as she spoke to her.

“You repaired it?” “Replaced it.” She jerked a casual thumb over her shoulder.

“The blade?” “The whole thing.” There was a bit of glimmer in Jane’s eyes as she rose to her feet and proudly handed Maura a manual to a new garbage disposal. “This is the Mercedes of disposals.”

“It’s German?” Maura was teasing, having learned that Jane was rarely literal when using cultural references.

“It’s _classy_.” Jane turned on the water and then flipped the switch to the disposal. It made a familiar mechanical sound, however it was quieter than the noise it had been making days earlier. “Well, as classy as you can get for something that grinds up garbage.” She brushed her hair out of her face with her arm.

“This is very considerate of you. How much do I owe you?”

Jane shuffled a step away from Maura. “Shut up and keep your money away from me.”

“I know this wasn’t cheap, Jane.”

“Neither were all my textbooks,” was Jane’s pointed reply.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“You have time for dinner before you run off to save lives?” Jane was lifting the hem of her shirt to dry her hands and forearms, meaning Maura couldn’t avoid noticing her abs.

“I do.”

“Give me ten to shower and then I’ll help with the vegetables?”

“You just want to make sure I don’t put any peels down the drain.”

“Maybe.” Jane climbed the stairs, her long legs taking two at a time.

Maura closed her eyes and drew in a breath. The image of Jane, under the sink, flexing and damp with sweat and water, was at the forefront of her mind. Her weekend with Jillian had been a great distraction. Unfortunately, it didn’t completely override Maura’s attraction to Jane.

Maura worried it wouldn’t be possible to distract from her obsession, because a part of her was beginning to suspect that it was about more than just a physical attraction to her best friend. And if it went beyond that, there was nothing Maura could do but suffer in silence, or make a move that may well implode the friendship.

Both options scared her more than she was prepared to deal with.


	16. Chapter 16

It wasn’t until Monday night that Jane even allowed herself to think of the suggestion she’d been given by Dr. Hendrix. It was late, she was in bed but wasn’t ready to fall asleep, so her mind was wandering. She had no desire to start the next book for her literature class, though it might be boring enough to make her drowsy. But that would mean turning on the lights and trying to pay attention to what she was reading. So, she was just lying there.

She attempted to conjure up a generic image of men’s and women’s bodies. At first, she pictured the pages of an old set of encyclopedias her family had kept on a shelf in the living room. It was common practice when she was in elementary school to open up the volume that contained scientific drawings of naked male and female bodies and a few pages of thick transparencies that showed the placement of the skeleton, muscles, and organs. It was always the source of giggles and groans with her friends and her brothers.

The memory fell away as Jane started to consider the body types of the men she’d dated. Of her serious boyfriends, Casey was easily the one with the best body. He was a soldier, in great physical shape, and her high school crush. But as much as he was pleasant to look at, his physicality hadn’t been what drew Jane to him. It had been their history, his unattainability when she was younger and then his interest in her when they reconnected as adults.

Dean and Cameron were both fine; they weren’t out of shape, by any means.

But her attraction to them had been centered around them being fellow law enforcement and able to handle her dedication to her own job. They hadn’t been threatened by her being a cop and they were always able to swap great stories.

She made an effort to think of each of their bodies, but it didn’t elicit anything worthwhile. Really, they were all like she’d told Dr. Hendrix. Weird body hair and lumpy torsos.

Maybe Jane just wasn’t that sexual of a person.

Still, she was only halfway done with the exercise. She pictured a generic woman, but that felt too abstract, so Jane tried to think of someone specific. Who was generally accepted as attractive? Pamela Anderson? Sure, she was attractive in a nineties California bleached-blonde kind of way, she supposed. But there wasn’t any connection.

What about someone she’d actually interacted with?

Riley, or Detective Cooper, as she’d come to learn was her actual title, had lived across the hall from Jane for a little while and they’d had a few exchanges. Frankie and Frost had fought for her attention and Jane could understand why. She was quite attractive and had a cool sensibility about her. But still, there wasn’t really anything for Jane to grasp onto.

She supposed, in order to fully realize the point of the exercise, she needed to think of someone who was comparable to the men she’d dated, someone she was personally close to. And that meant thinking about Maura. Or, at least, Maura’s body. Jane had seen plenty of it over the years, while working out, visiting spas, or getting massages together. She knew Maura’s skin was flawless and looked incredibly smooth, that she took good physical care of herself. Her friend’s choice in fashion often drew attention to her ample and perfect breasts and, sometimes, Jane did find herself looking at them because they were difficult to miss.

If she had to compare Maura’s body to, say, Casey’s, side-by-side like the images in those encyclopedias, Jane decided that, yeah, Maura’s body was more pleasant to look at and made more sense when it came to proportion and aesthetic. Fine. She’d done it and the conclusion was that women were just better looking than men. But that wasn’t so weird, was it?

Jane rolled over from her back to her side, hoping the mental activity had somewhat tired her out. Instead, she found herself a little wound up, maybe from thinking of all her past sexual partners. But, they weren’t at the forefront of her mind the way Maura was. Not that she was thinking specifically of Maura as she groped around in the dark, digging in the nightstand drawer for the cheap plastic vibrator she kept for nights like this. Romance novels were cheesy and porn was too aggressive so for her, it was about direct stimulation and getting a quick result more than it was ever about fantasy.

She found orgasm within a few minutes and while her technique was simple and uncomplicated, thoughts that drifted through her mind as she finally fell asleep were far more complex.

For the next few days, Jane avoided thinking about what that complexity meant, but once she was seated in the armchair across from Dr. Hendrix, she was forced to consider its significance. Not that she planned to talk to the therapist about it in any detail. But still, the question had come up.

“Last week, we talked about your feelings regarding male and female bodies.”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything you’d like to discuss?”

“No.” But Jane sighed at her own answer. “I mean, I guess I think women are...maybe nice to look at?”

Dr. Hendrix caught the way Jane phrased that as a question and didn’t let it slip by. “You sound uncertain.”

“It’s just not something I’ve really had a lot of experience with.”

“Are you interested in expanding that experience?”

Jane shrugged. “It’s just weird.”

“Being attracted to women?”

“No, that’s not something that bothers me. Not in general, anyway.”

“So where is it _specifically_ weird?”

“It’s just not something I’ve ever thought about for myself. I’ve always dated guys.”

Dr. Hendrix shrugged. “There’s no implication here that you’re required to date a woman.”

“I know, I just…” Jane thought about what all of this meant. All she knew was that she’d had an orgasm while thinking about Maura. But was it even about her body or was it--she didn’t want to entertain whatever thought was brewing because it could be incredibly damaging to their friendship.

Her thoughts were beginning to blur in panic when Dr. Hendrix’s gentle voice interrupted them, “Whatever you’re processing, we don’t have to discuss it now if you don’t want to.”

“Good,” Jane replied, forcing her train of thought aside, “Can we talk about something else?”

“Certainly. Did you have anything in mind?”

Jane took a deep breath and said, “I guess I should tell you about Hoyt.”

Somehow, in the moment, talking about the serial killer who’d been obsessed with her--or at least one of them--wasn’t nearly so terrifying. Comparatively, anyway. Jane left the session feeling emotionally drained, but with a vague sense of relief.

Jane’s week ended in its usual routine. Finals week was rapidly approaching, but was just far enough away that Jane wasn’t going to really worry about it until Saturday afternoon. In part, she was less worried because, due to Maura’s urging, she had already completed the rough draft of her final paper for their Lit class and was mostly left with tests to take that she already felt pretty confident about. It had been quite easy to focus on school work for the past week or so because it was the safest place to direct her attention.

Since she’d been so focused on school all week, by Saturday morning, after venting some of her restless energy on a morning run with Maura, Jane was excited to be heading to the farmer’s market with Maura and TJ. It wasn’t quite the tradition in Boston that it had been in DC, but Jane liked to go with Maura sometimes, and TJ loved the place, as he got to sample fudge and popcorn and jerky.

They were strolling around, alternately holding TJ’s hand as they bantered over what kind of groceries to buy to make which meals that week. Jane was glad to be there to influence Maura into planning heavier meals for finals week, and TJ was equally excited about the candy Jane convinced Maura to buy and the fresh cherries Maura had picked out.

Jane was holding onto TJ and browsing soap at a stand across from where Maura was purchasing kale when her nephew began to tug on her hand. “Miss Schmidt!” his small voice called.

Turning quickly, Jane held TJ’s hand a little tighter as she caught up to him, warily scanning the people around them until she saw who he was waving to. A young woman with an apple-cheeked smile was waving back and approaching TJ, though she maintained a respectful distance. “Well, hello, TJ! How nice to run into you outside of school!” She smiled down at him, then her gaze moved to Jane, “I’ve met TJ’s father, but I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you…”

She paused, and Jane wasn’t about to let her complete that sentence with anything embarrassing, “I’m TJ’s aunt. Jane.” She stuck out her other hand in greeting.

“Oh, Aunt Jane!” Miss Schmidt nodded to TJ and then shook Jane’s hand eagerly, “I’m Ellen Schmidt, TJ’s kindergarten teacher. Oh, and you must be Aunt Maura!”

Jane followed her gaze to realize Maura had approached her other side. Maura looked surprised, “Why, yes I am. TJ’s kindergarten teacher, you say?” She held out her own hand.

“Yes. I’ve heard all about you both! TJ likes to talk about you, and once you two were the subject of his show and tell.”

“We were?” Jane asked TJ with a smile. What a sweet kid her nephew was. And it probably was cool to a kid that his aunts used to solve crimes together.

“Yep!” TJ chirped, “I told everyone about how you were my aunts and how you both were sad when Aunt Jane lived in DC but then you came home to Aunt Maura and you both were happy again!”

 _From the mouths of babes_. Jane’s throat was dry, because none of what TJ said was inaccurate, but the way he said it certainly implied a different reality than the one Jane and Maura lived in. Suddenly, Ellen Schmidt’s excitement to meet the two of them had a whole different meaning. And the thought struck Jane that perhaps it wasn’t just that TJ’s explanation was incomplete and misleading. Maybe TJ thought they were _married_. Why else would Maura be his aunt?

Luckily, Maura spoke to cover the awkward moment, “That is certainly true, yes. We’re all happy to have Jane home again.” Miss Schmidt beamed. Jane couldn’t bring herself to even look over at Maura, certain that her own face was bright red.

“Yes, and I’m happy to be home,” Jane managed to contribute to the conversation. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

“It certainly was!” Maura said, “And it’s clear that TJ adores you, so I’m quite pleased you’re his teacher.”

“He’s a great kid,” Miss Schmidt said. “You’re both coming to the graduation, right?”

Jane had been so wrapped up in her own studies, she’d almost forgotten that TJ’s kindergarten graduation was only a week away. “Absolutely.”

Miss Schmidt smiles widely at them. “That’s great. I’ll see you next weekend. And, TJ, I’ll see you on Monday. Have a great day with your aunts!”

“I will!” TJ waved as his teacher walked away, continuing with her shopping.

Jane turned back toward the soap stand, still unable to chance a glance at Maura. “Need anything from here?” she shot vaguely over her shoulder.

Maura’s voice was light. “I could use some soap for my bathroom.”

Jane felt the awkwardness between them. Great. Maura was embarrassed about being perceived to be Jane’s partner. She tried to find a way to add some levity. “I’m so glad that when I, uh, came home to you, that I got my own bathroom. With my own soaps.” It was weak, and so was Maura’s responding chuckle, but at least there was a response.

“I should only be so lucky to have a partner like you,” Maura replied, a humorous edge to the comment.

Her tone made Jane laugh lowly, but then she didn’t know what to say in response. What did _that_ even mean?

“Aunt Jane, look!” TJ tugged her hand again and pointed toward a bakery stand that was giving out samples of doughnut holes.

“Aunt Maura, look!” Jane repeated with a grin, finally able to glance at her best friend.

Maura gave them both a tolerant smile. “Okay, let’s sample the doughnuts.”

Jane relaxed, pushing Maura’s previous comment out of her mind as the awkward joke it obviously was.

She spent most of the rest of Saturday studying for her upcoming finals, and allowed Maura to quiz her over dinner. Jane went to bed on the early side, intending to spend most of Sunday studying and putting the final touches on her essay.

And that was basically how her Sunday went, at least until the late afternoon. Dinner was still a couple hours away, and Jane was restless. Weeks earlier, Maura had rearranged her yoga room to fit Jane’s punching bag in the corner, though Jane had hardly had a chance to use it yet. She changed into her workout clothes and headed to the yoga room.

She slowed as she approached, realizing that Maura was sitting on the floor with her back to Jane. She knocked gently as Maura sank slowly down into a forward stretch, reaching for her feet. “Yes?” Maura managed.

“Just me,” Jane replied, “I was gonna work out, if that’s okay.”

“Certainly.” Maura sat back up and then climbed to her feet. “I was just warming up. Want to do something together?”

Jane hadn’t considered that, but the idea was appealing. Honestly, staring at her books and notes all day was making her feel both stir-crazy and starved for socialization. “Yeah, that sounds good. Want to work on self-defense?” It was raining, so running wasn’t really a great option.

“I would,” Maura replied.

They faced the punching dummy together, practicing strike patterns and combinations, occasionally facing off together so Jane could show Maura how certain moves would land on an actual human body. Jane let off some steam by demonstrating strikes on the bag, then moved aside to let Maura have a turn, sometimes standing close to help her body find the correct stance.

“Like this?” Maura asked. Jane’s eyes trailed down her body. She forced them not to linger on Maura’s breasts in her tank top, which was how she noticed something about Maura’s posture.

“Don’t forget to exhale,” She moved behind Maura, placing her palm over her stomach. “And bring your shoulders back a little. Straighten.” Her other hand pressed just beside Maura’s shoulder. She felt Maura’s body twitching uncertainly, trying to follow Jane’s directions, her abs tightening. “Good. Okay, now when you strike, exhale. I should be able to hear it.” She stayed closed behind her, keeping one hand on Maura’s stomach, though she dropped the one on Maura’s shoulder.

Maura jabbed with her hand, and Jane felt the exhale under her hand and heard Maura’s grunt. “Good,” she dropped her hand and stepped back. “Could be louder though.” Maura moved through a few more of the strikes, exhaling into them each time. “Good,” Jane said again.

“What’s next?” Maura asked breathlessly.

“Then you…” Instead of demonstrating, Jane felt it might almost be easier to guide Maura, who was already in the correct stance. She stepped up behind her again, “Twist your hips,” she murmured, resting her hands against them and applying light pressure to indicate which way to go, “And as you do so…” she gently lifted Maura’s arm, “Uppercut. Keep your back straight, don’t overextend,” Jane moved her other hand back to Maura’s stomach to keep her in place.

The moment seemed to crystalize, with Jane’s hands on Maura’s body, until Maura swallowed and said, “Okay, so…” and Jane finally had the sense to step back. Maura repositioned herself and performed the strike pattern she had been taught, slowly and deliberately.

“Good. Very good,” Jane praised, for indeed, Maura had made each move with impeccable form. “Now work on speeding it up.” Maura moved through it with more speed, and though it was a little sloppier, it was still pretty good. “You’re getting it,” Jane encouraged. She was about to take half a step toward Maura, to demonstrate the flow of the moves, when Maura stepped back from the bag, wiping at her forehead.

“Whew,” she breathed, “I’m actually getting pretty beat. I’m going to go take a shower, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, sure,” Jane replied, brow furrowing. They’d worked up a sweat with some of what they were working on earlier, but teaching Maura something new meant working at a slower pace. It seemed strange that this was what finally wore Maura out.

Maybe Jane had freaked her out. Stood too close, looked too long, violated some other friendship boundary.

Jane turned her attention to the bag and began to work up a rhythm of punches and jabs, willing herself to push aside that thought, and after several more minutes of the bag, she had exhausted herself enough that she was able to ignore the fact she felt a little...worked up from the work out she’d just shared with Maura.

* * *

 

While Jane was taking her final exams, Maura had picked up an extra couple of rounds at the clinic, looking for something to fill her days because Kent had a solid handle of the current caseload at the autopsy lab. Because of the time she’d spent at the hospital, Wednesday night’s Lit class was the first time all week she’d been able to sit down and spend some time with Jane, though it was shared with dozens of other people in the classroom. As they waited for the professor, a fellow student, a young woman with asymmetrical bright fuschia hair, leaned over and handed them a flyer.

“Some of us are hosting an end of finals party at the Rat’s Nest on Friday. I’d love it if you two could make it. It’s always exciting to have non-traditional students join us.”

“Uh...thanks,” Jane responded uncertainly, glancing at the flyer.

“How thoughtful! Thank you,” Maura replied, hoping to smooth over Jane’s lackluster response, as her instinct was to appear gracious. The girl smiled and walked quickly back to her seat, and Maura leaned toward Jane’s desk for a better look at the flyer, “What does it say?”

“Not much,” Jane pushed it toward Maura a little, “Enough for me to know I’m not going.”

Maura scanned the flyer. “Ooh, it’s hosted by the Queer Student Union! But don’t worry,” she addressed Jane, “It says that anyone can attend.”

Jane grunted, “Yeah, no thanks. I don’t want to be that old woman at the party, no matter who’s hosting it.” The professor was entering the room, and before Maura could reply, Jane snatched flyer back and shoved it into her backpack, “Shh, it’s almost time for our final,” she hissed.

Maura opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, her instinct to argue with Jane warring with her impulse to be a model student. “We’re not done,” she stage whispered to Jane, who held a finger up to her lips and gestured forcefully toward the professor, but her eyes were alight with amusement.

The final, which included a few short essays, struck Maura as somewhat enjoyable, as she got to include some of her favorite things she had read in the class in her responses. Jane appeared drained after they finished the test, and insisted she did not want to talk about the ways she had decided to answer the questions, though Maura was able to make Jane talk about it a bit anyway on the car ride home.

By the time they’d made it back into the house, Maura was satisfied with their discussion about the final. She sorted through her school paperwork at her desk, while Jane was reorganizing her class books and paperwork from the coffee table in front of the couch, her current preferred study location. She pulled the flyer back out of her backpack and appeared to be looking it over. Maura approached from behind the couch to sit next to her. “I am really quite interested in attending this event,” she told Jane again.

Jane groaned and forcefully lowered the hand holding the flyer, “Maura, it’s just a stupid college party. We’ll probably see illegal behavior and stupid decisions and that’s about it.”

Maura took the flyer from her hand, and Jane didn’t appear motivated to stop her. “Well, first of all, it’s being hosted at a bar and grill, so that will likely cut down on illegal behavior.” Jane frowned and looked back over, as if seeking to refute Maura’s observation. “And secondly, I never got to experience things like this in college. I’d like to go for the ethnographic opportunity.”

Jane laughed, “No, your college days were totally tame. You never got married overnight or protested equestrian team funding by impersonating Lady Godiva and riding around _nude_ on a horse.” She was smirking, her sarcasm heavy.

“Well, yes, those things happened, but that was a different sort of experience than the typical college party. Having grown up abroad, the taboo of alcohol didn’t hold the same appeal to me, and the parties I attended were usually someplace exclusive. Besides, it might be nice to mingle with other queer students.” Catching the look on Jane’s face, Maura reassured, “Who are probably all far too young for me and I’m only interested in getting to know them socially.”

“Right,” Jane muttered, staring at the flyer again. Finally, she sighed, and slumped, “I’m not letting you go to this by yourself, you know.”

Maura brightened. “Does that mean you’re coming with me?”

“Against my better judgment, but yeah. I can be your...what do you call it when someone guides you through a new culture or whatever?”

“Mostly commonly, you’d be referred to as my informant. Though somewhat different that the types of informants you have experience with.”

Jane grimaced. “Great. I’ll be your college party informant.”

* * *

 

The next morning was therapy, and as seemed to happen frequently, Jane found herself discussing the exact topic she wanted to avoid. Jane had to admit that part of it was her own slightly greater willingness to discuss uncomfortable things with Dr. Hendrix. As exhausting as the experiences tended to be, she was beginning to trust the therapist’s perspective, at least a little bit.

They were discussing Maura. Or, rather, Jane had maybe brought up Maura, because her brain had begun processing some terrifying thoughts. Jane wasn’t sure how many of these fears she could actually verbalize, but she felt she had to at least acknowledge them to her therapist.

“I guess it’s kind of like,” Jane had been trying to best articulate her feelings about her thoughts, “I unlocked something in my brain and now I can’t even shut the door to it. Stuff just slips out and into my mind and then I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Obsessive thoughts?” asked Dr. Hendrix.

“Not in a creepy way.”

“But they aren’t fleeting.”

Jane half-laughed as she spoke, “Not really.”

“Yet they bother you.” It wasn’t quite a question, but Jane thought she heard a note of puzzlement in the statement.

“I’m not supposed to be thinking of my best friend like that.”

“Why is that?”

It seemed like it should be obvious to Jane, but she tried to think of a concrete reason Dr. Hendrix might understand to express the sentiment. “Because she’s not interested in me.”

“She’s told you that?”

“Well,” Jane considered, “not directly. But she would have said something if she was. Maura doesn’t hide stuff like that.” Subtlety wasn’t really one of Maura’s strong suits. Besides, Jane felt confident that she knew what it looked like when someone was interested in her--she’d shot down enough guys in her life--and she wasn’t seeing that kind of attention from Maura.

Dr. Hendrix sounded speculative, “Based on what you’ve told me about her and also my own experience with those who are more scientifically minded, it seems that she’s the kind of person who operates on fact rather than presumption.”

Jane nodded. “Yeah, she really hates it when I make her guess about things.” She could hear Maura’s voice in the back of her mind refusing to confirm a reddish-brown stain at the scene of a crime was blood before running any tests on it.

“Do you think there’s any possibility she might return any of these feelings you’re having? Or respond favorably to the thoughts you’ve been having?”

But now Jane was the one who didn’t want to guess. If she guessed wrong, their friendship was on the line, and these days, she wasn’t sure she could listen to her gut anymore. Not that her gut was giving her much to work with as it merely churned with anxiety about the topic at hand. She shrugged, feeling herself close off. “I don’t know.”

Dr. Hendrix read this well enough to slightly shift the topic. “You mentioned this party you’ve been invited to.”

“Yeah, a bunch of college kids drinking too much.”

“And that feels inappropriate to you?”

“It’s probably fine. It’s at a bar, so they’ll be carding. I just don’t know if I want to hang around a bunch of twenty-something kids getting trashed.”

“But Maura would like to go,” confirmed Dr. Hendrix.

“And I don’t want to make her go alone.”

“My suggestion to you would be this: Go and see what feels appropriate. You know the law, you know what trouble looks like. If things begin to delve toward the inappropriate, you can always leave.”

That made a lot of sense to Jane.

And she had a feeling that Dr. Hendrix wasn’t just talking about the party.

* * *

 

Maura had never visited the Rat’s Nest, but Jane had apparently visited the place a couple of times for beers with her brother, which was why Maura was standing in Jane’s bedroom, consulting her about possible wardrobe options on Friday evening.

“Do you think this is appropriate?” she asked. Based on Jane’s description of the bar as a “beer and rock kinda place” Maura had chosen knee-high black boots over black denim with a casual animal print top.

Jane, who was dressed in her usual blue jeans and one of her many v-neck t-shirts, genuinely appeared to approve of and appreciate Maura’s outfit. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool. Maybe you’ll actually blend in. You know, as long as you don’t suddenly start explaining the Theory of Evolution to everyone.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” gasped Maura. “Not unless someone asked me.”

“Well, let’s try to keep it casual and non-scientific tonight.”

“I’ll agree to that if you promise we can stay for at least two hours.”

“Fine,” sighed Jane. She rose from where she sat on the bed and retrieved a black jacket from her closet.

Maura’s eyes widened when she realized _which_ jacket it was. “Not that, please.”

Jane slid her arms into the sleeves, allowing the long, black leather fringe along the arms to swing back and forth. “I agreed to go, which means I get to pick what I wear.”

“Did you choose it in order to embarrass me?”

In response, Jane just laughed. “I can do that just fine, without the jacket.”

Maura hummed. “I suppose a college party is an acceptable place to make poor fashion choices.”

Even though Jane made it clear she didn’t really want to drink much, Maura insisted they take a cab to the venue. She wanted to be open to experience and she didn’t want Jane to feel any need to hold back on her account. She didn’t expect either of them to behave wildly out of character, but this was supposed to be an evening out to blow off the proverbial steam. And, at least Jane seemed eased by the presence of the security guard at the door who diligently checked everyone’s identification and even turned someone away for not having a current driver’s license.

However, when Maura realized the wine list consisted of two items, “Red” and “White” and both of them came from a box, she reconsidered how her evening might turn out.

* * *

 

Jane reminded herself to slow down, realizing she’d already put away a beer and a half in the forty-five minutes they’d been at the bar. The first had been her own, the second was Maura’s, but after the first sip, she’d pushed it toward Jane. It was cheap, watery stuff, the kind Jane had consumed plenty of in high school, when she absolutely wasn’t supposed to have been drinking; then in junior college, when she still wasn’t old enough; and finally in the police academy, when she was over the drinking age, but still too broke to afford anything better. The nostalgia factor lasted through the first few swigs and then she remembered how many hangovers she’d faced because of it.

She checked her watch. Maura had excused herself the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes and Jane was about to abandon her barstool to check on her friend when Maura reappeared and reclaimed the seat next to Jane. As soon as she was settled, Maura began to check her pulse.

“Are you okay?” asked Jane.

“Yes. I’m just tracking my vitals.”

“Why, did you meet someone you like?” It was a joke, but Jane immediately hated that she’d even brought it up.

“No. I consumed a small amount of edible cannabis.”

“You ate a pot brownie in the bathroom?!” Jane glanced around, trying to suss out who was dealing drugs in the bar.

Maura’s hand landed on Jane’s arm. “It was medical grade cannabis chocolate, in the sealed package and fully labeled with the THC and CBD content. And I only ate a quarter of the recommended dose.”

“So you came to a college party and bought drugs from a stranger?”

“It was given to me.”

“That’s not any better.”

Maura sighed. “There was a very friendly group of young women who were all indulging and they included me because I was easily able to calculate the appropriate dose for each of their body weights.” At Jane’s disbelieving stare, Maura raised an eyebrow in return. “It’s decriminalized.”

“You’re ridiculous. And I’m less worried about criminality and more worried about what’s going to happen when you decide you want three dozen glazed doughnuts.”

Maura scoffed at that, and leaned over the bar to retrieve a pen and began to write something on a napkin, which she then handed to Jane. “Here.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a recommendation from a medical doctor that I should try medical grade marijuana for my ailments.”

“Oh, really? What ailments?”

“Anxiety.” Maura began to write on another napkin.

“Now what are you doing?”

“I’m writing one for you, because you could really stand to relax, once in awhile.”

Jane snorted, but accepted the completed napkin. She was trying to come up with a retort, something about how when she’d dabbled in it in high school and junior college, it hadn’t been all that relaxing, when she caught sight of a particularly wild throw from the nearby beer pong table sailing in her direction. Jane caught it on a reflex and spun to face the group of students who had been chasing errant ping pong balls all over the place for almost a half an hour already. “Really? Are you guys _still_ playing?” With barely a thought, Jane tossed the ball, which landed neatly in a cup on the end of the table furthest from her.

The group playing beer pong stared until a split second later when one of the kids called out, “She’s on my team!” Jane’s instinct was to roll her eyes, but there was an insistent tug in her guts toward the table, born of an instinctive need to compete and possibly show off a little. She glanced at Maura, whose expression was quirked in interest, and the impulse coalesced.

So she sighed as if playing was a burden instead of exactly what she wanted to do right now, and shrugged off her jacket. “Hold this,” she instructed Maura.

Maura looked horrified, “I will not.”

Jane groaned, “Come on, Maura, what if someone steals it?”

“No one is going to steal that,” Maura replied with a confident chuckle. Jane stared at her incredulously, and Maura finally conceded, “Leave it on your chair, I’ll keep an eye on it.”

That was good enough for Jane, who wasn’t actually concerned about theft and was highly entertained by Maura’s repulsion toward the jacket. She dropped the jacket on the barstool and strode confidently over to the beer pong table, greeted by excited applause from the group of players and their handful of spectators.

* * *

 

Though Maura typically didn’t indulge in cannabis, she had been happy for the opportunity to do so this evening. She had decided shortly after arriving at the party that she would not be partaking in alcohol that evening, since the substandard beer and wine offerings didn’t interest her and she wasn’t really in the mood for anything as aggressive as hard liquor. In her mind, indulging in a medically controlled substance, even for recreational purposes, gave her the opportunity to be a participant observer in this scenario. Besides, she had dosed carefully and purposefully aimed low, to account for not being a regular user of marijuana, so she wasn’t worried.

Maura was content to watch Jane play beer pong, at least for a little bit. Jane was good, though they’d plied her with at least two full domestic beers so that she could “catch up” to the rest of the people playing. But Maura also wanted to attempt to converse with other students attending, in order to experience the college party fully, so while she kept an eye on Jane (and Jane’s jacket), she also began seek out conversation partners. For Maura, socialization in new scenarios often subconsciously registered as ethnographic study, but it was possibly due to her current state of slight intoxication, that she found herself moving more casually through each exchange. This pleased her and led her to believe she’d made a positive decision about how to navigate her evening.

She got to know a few details about several of her now-former classmates. But even with the mingling and conversation, she found her attention often focused on the beer pong game, glancing to see if the cheers were for Jane (and yes, they often were).

* * *

 

Jane finished the beer pong game without having to drink much more, though it dragged on because she was the only consistently good player on either team, but when it was over, she was tapped out. She raised her hands in surrender, declared, “I’m out, I’m too old to go another round, good game,” and headed for the bathroom before anyone could attempt to draw her into a rematch.

While washing her hands, Jane tried her best to observe the other women in the bathroom, wondering if the girls who’d given Maura medical marijuana might be in there. It was more out of curiosity than anything else; Jane didn’t want any for herself and wasn’t planning to say anything to them. There were no obvious signs that anyone in the bathroom had any weed candy, though, so Jane left the bathroom mildly disappointed.

Once back in the bar, Jane headed for one of the small couches on a whim. It wasn’t until she settled onto the cushions that she realized it hadn’t been an entirely random choice, as her conscious mind caught up to the fact that her body really didn’t feel like balancing on a barstool at the moment. It had been awhile since she’d had this much to drink, and though most of what she’d had was cheap, watery beer, it just meant she was well-familiar with the incoming headache. She knew she should probably get some water, but the prospect of getting off the couch seemed daunting.

Someone was approaching, and she focused on Maura, who held a glass in her hand. She was grinning at Jane, “This soda water and lime is _so good_. It’s my beverage of choice this evening!” She blinked, then handed Jane the glass, “You look like you could use some, though.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jane reached for the glass, taking it carefully, and maneuvered the cocktail straw into her lips to take a sip.

“Finish it,” Maura ordered, though her tone was more friendly than authoritative. Jane did so, not needing much encouragement, and shoved the glass back toward Maura. “I’ll be back.” Jane watched the curve of Maura’s hips in jeans as she walked away.

Jane let her thoughts wander for a few moments while she sat on the couch. Beer pong had been fun, and it was nice to completely dominate the competition, but she hoped Maura would be coming back soon. She hadn’t meant to get drawn into anything for as long as she had. Maura seemed like she was having a blast--Jane had definitely tracked her movements through the bar while she was playing--and she hoped she hadn’t gotten too drunk for Maura to want to talk to her.

But before long, Maura was coming back with another soda water with lime in her hands, which she handed to Jane. “Drink this one, too.”

Jane took a long sip, and nodded, “Thanks.” Maura gestured for her to continue, and Jane finished with the drink, which Maura placed on a nearby table to be cleared away.

“How are you feeling?”

Jane shrugged, “I’m fine, I think.”

Maura chuckled, “If you were fine, you’d be getting up to get your own water.” Jane wanted to protest, since she was certain she could do that if she really wanted to, but Maura was moving toward her in a way that it took all her mental energy to process and within seconds, she was on Jane’s lap, her legs draped over the rest of the small couch, propping herself up on the back of the sofa, arm behind Jane’s head.

“Uh...what are you doing?” Jane asked. Her hands had settled automatically on Maura’s waist, one arm around her back, the other across her lap, keeping her balanced.

“Making sure you don’t get up for awhile,” Maura replied casually, grabbing Jane’s hand. Jane’s fingers twitched, uncertain what she was supposed to be doing, and then she stilled as she realized Maura had flipped her palm over and was pressing fingers against her pulse point. “Hmm. Your heart rate is slightly elevated.”

Indeed, Jane’s pulse had sharply increased the moment Maura began moving toward her. “Well, I was just exercising.”

Maura snorted, “Beer pong isn’t exercise.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “Though it is competitive, so I suppose that’s reasonable.” She dropped Jane’s hand, which settled again on Maura’s hip.

Jane grunted her agreement, and then Maura turned toward her. Her hands were soft and cool as they gently pressed against Jane’s face and neck. “Uh…” Jane couldn’t think of what to say.

“Body temperature appears normal,” Maura murmured, hand stilling near Jane’s hairline.

“I...didn’t realize I was getting a physical.”

“Just checking your vitals, since you’re a bit intoxicated.” Her fingers lingered near Jane’s temple, in a way that would probably be soothing if Jane weren’t acutely aware of every point of contact between them.

Maura’s hands trailed down, her index finger tracing vague loops and lines over Jane’s shoulder. Jane was struggling to appear relaxed, but she felt like a statue, with no idea how she was supposed to respond. Maura’s expression was serene, and finally she said, “Your shirt is _really_ soft.”

Jane blinked and stared down at where Maura’s fingers were stroking her t-shirt sleeve. “Well, you’re the one who keeps buying fabric softener.”

Maura hummed, “I do, don’t I? I didn’t realize how _effective_ it was.” She was still touching delicately.

Finally, Jane started to grin, feeling a little more at ease. Maura’s edible was definitely kicking in. It explained everything. She felt warm, more from the contact with Maura than the alcohol buzz, and she was sure her heart was still pounding, but at least she didn’t feel frozen, unable to follow what was happening. She held Maura in place on her lap, trying not to think too much about how much she liked it, as Maura’s hands lightly stroked her shoulders, her face, her hair.

* * *

 

Maura didn’t quite notice her edible cannabis was taking effect until around the time that Jane was finishing with beer pong, and she was talking quite a bit to one young woman who looked a bit confused. Maura paused to try to gather her thoughts, which was the moment she realized she wasn’t sure what kind of a tangent she’d gone off on or what her original point was. “Um. Sorry. What was I talking about?”

The girl laughed, “Sorry, I’m not too sure anymore, either.”

“Oh. Well, it was lovely chatting.”

“It was nice to meet you!” The girl replied agreeably, then melded back into the crowd of people closer to her own age.

Maura spotted Jane exiting the restroom and flopping on the couch, and while she retrieved water for her, she assessed how she was feeling. More than anything, she felt _relaxed_. She was also curious; her usual intellectual mindset felt augmented somehow, which felt like a good state of mind for observing and collecting data about the college party. In fact, once she’d sat on Jane (which she perceived as an inspired and effective move to combat Jane’s stubbornness that she wouldn’t have considered under normal circumstances) and done a general assessment of her health, she was eager to share some of her discoveries with Jane.

The only trouble with her current mindset seemed to be that it was difficult to stop talking, and indeed, sometimes it was difficult to anticipate what she, herself, was going to say. She told Jane about the cluster of young queer-identified people who had recently turned twenty-one, for whom this was their first college party, too. She talked about the young man she’d encouraged to play the next round of beer pong who kept saying he was too afraid he’d be bad at it to try. She reported on the guy who was clearly driven to drink far beyond what was reasonable, and the advice she’d given to his friend to ensure his safety. She told Jane all about the very nice conversation she’d had with a group of young women about organic chemistry.

Jane’s gaze seemed to unfocus at different times, though she continued to grunt to show she was at least pretending to listen. Maura hadn’t thought much at first about the way they were sitting together, but it was pleasant. Jane was solid, keeping her comfortably in place, but soft, and the hint of soap scent on her skin was invigorating. Maura slowly became aware that their position was quite intimate, though by that point, they’d been sitting that way so long, and Jane appeared relaxed enough, that Maura didn’t feel the need to change anything. It was nice to feel so close to Jane while she made sure Jane didn’t go anywhere.

* * *

 

Maura had been talking almost non-stop in an info dump of everything she’d learned about everyone else at the party that evening, and Jane had done her best to pay attention, even though it was kind of intense. It occupied her enough that she almost could forget that Maura was on her lap and essentially nuzzling her shoulder as she slumped further and further down. Finally, Jane found an opportunity to ask about what she’d been wondering earlier. “What about the girls who gave you the weed?” Jane muttered near Maura’s ear when she’d paused in her recounting of her ethnographic observations.

“Oh, they were lovely. They already knew it was unwise to mix cannabis and alcohol before I told them, and they just wanted to chill out among friends tonight without anything getting too crazy. That’s them over on those other couches playing that card game.”

As if on cue, the girls began shrieking with laughter that seemed to take a long time to die down. Jane squinted at them and hummed neutrally, curiosity sated. “Should’ve known.”

Maura shifted slightly, but it was enough to draw Jane’s attention back to her. “Jane?”

“Yeah?” There was a pensive, thoughtful look to Maura’s expression. She was considering something and Jane had no idea what to expect.

“I really think I’d like to get out of here,” she leaned closer, her nose bumping Jane’s ear. “To get some doughnuts.”

Jane was tempted to playfully push Maura off her lap, but she resisted. “I knew it.” There was a Boston Joe’s just around the corner, which would satisfy Maura’s request and also give Jane a chance to sober up with some coffee. She felt like she really needed her bearings to handle whatever else Maura might be up to for the evening. “But we can’t go anywhere until you get up.”

“True,” Maura agreed, though she didn’t move. The silence stretched and they watched each other, both waiting, until finally Maura said, “It’s proving very difficult to move.”

Jane laughed. “It’s called couchlock, you’ll be fine.”

“I think I need another minute.”

Another laugh. “Okay.”

Maura was quiet and Jane assumed it was because she was working up the will to stand, but she felt the touch of Maura’s fingertips against her neck. “Do you ever think about how we have matching scars?”

Jane had, though her scars, in general, weren’t something she liked to dwell on. “A little.” She didn’t enjoy the memory of how they both gained that buildup of scar tissue, just below the chin, from someone as twisted and terrifying as Hoyt. And she especially hated that he’d harmed Maura. Her own former injuries were something she could live with, but she still struggled with the fact that he’d gotten to someone so close to her and actually drawn blood.

“I didn’t mean to send you into such an introspective state,” said Maura.

“It’s fine.”

“You protected me,” Maura assured her. “You saved my life.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’re very good at it.”

Desperate to change the subject, Jane wondered if she’d be able to just lift Maura up and carry her out if she were sober, but knew she was in absolutely no condition to try now. So she nudged Maura gently, dislodging her enough that she put a foot on the floor for balance. “That’s it, fight the couchlock,” Jane chuckled, as Maura reluctantly rose to her feet.

Once she was on her feet, Maura offered a hand to Jane and helped her rise. Jane felt much more balanced, but there was still enough of a haze in her head that she was surprised to find herself standing very close to Maura once she was up. Maura slipped her arm through Jane’s to guide her through the crowd. Jane didn’t really need guiding, but she followed along obligingly.

They were nearing the exit when Jane abruptly stopped. “My jacket!”

“Oh. Right. Can’t forget that.” Maura sounded amused, and waited while Jane went over to retrieve it. Though she’d been sitting on the couch for quite awhile, her jacket hadn’t moved, and she grabbed it before pushing her way back to the entrance. Maura was shaking her head, but smiling. “Have I told you lately how ridiculous that jacket is?”

“Only every time you look at it.” Jane’s hand found the small of Maura’s back as she ushered her out the door, jacket slung over her shoulder. She nodded to the security guard on the way out, an acquaintance she knew through Frankie, and he lifted his hand in greeting. The safety-conscious part of Jane felt good knowing someone had noticed them leaving.

“It’s ridiculous and I know you only wear it to horrify me,” Maura spoke over her shoulder as soon as they were outside.

“Well, I’m not wearing it now, is that more or less horrifying?”

“It is equally horrifying.” Maura fell into step with Jane, arm slipping back through hers.

They began walking together, and Jane noticed Maura rubbing at her arms. “Cold?” she

asked.

“Given that it’s almost summer, I feel ridiculous admitting that I am somewhat chilly. It was getting kind of hot in the bar with all the people.”

Jane, however, felt fine, still warm from her beer. She swung the jacket off her shoulder and offered it to Maura. “Here.”

Maura stared, looking almost affronted, and Jane watched the war between Maura’s love for fashion and her desire to take care of her physical needs play out in her expression, until finally, she sighed, and put the jacket on with an expression of distaste. “This is mortifying.”

“Why? Looks great on you,” Jane smirked.

Maura swung her shoulder to swat at Jane’s arm with the jacket fringe, then tilted her head. “Wait, this is kind of fun…” She tossed her shoulders, whipping fringe all around.

“I thought that kind of activity would put an eye out,” Jane laughed. Maura bumped her with her actual shoulder this time.

They leaned on each other, both just hazy enough to feel steadier together than apart. The walk to Boston Joe’s was along a well-lit street with intermittent traffic, and as it wasn’t really late yet, Boston was still very much alive. Jane was sobering up enough to feel pretty alert as they walked, but she still also felt almost insulated in a blurry beer bubble with Maura. For her part, Maura appeared to be taking in her surroundings as if she’d never seen them before, making Jane the one to keep them on their steady course toward doughnuts.

Once inside the coffee shop, Maura insisted on ordering for them, mostly because Jane immediately sat down at the very first table. It felt like an eternity before Maura finally walked back over with a cup of coffee and a large bottle of water.

“What about your doughnuts?” Jane asked.

“They’re boxing them up for me.” She watched Jane sip her coffee for a moment, then asked, “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“Maybe I’ll have a doughnut. If you don’t eat them all.” Jane was feeling a bit bloated from all the beer she’d consumed, which was affecting her appetite, but she was almost always down for any kind of pastry.

Only moments later, the Boston Joe’s employee came out from around the counter, carrying three large boxes, which he passed to Maura, who thanked him graciously.

Jane stared. “How many doughnuts did you buy?”

“Well, I got a dozen glazed, but then I couldn’t decide what else I wanted, so I just got one of each.”

“Maura!” Jane laughed. A part of her wanted to chastise Maura, since Jane didn’t seriously think she might buy so many doughnuts when she’d joked about it earlier that night. But at the same time, buying one of every doughnut in the shop was a bit of a childhood dream come true. “Okay, I’m definitely helping you with those. Oh, I want a cream filled one!”

* * *

 

The cab ride home seemed to pass in a blur, as she and Jane squeezed into the back of the cab with their boxes of doughnuts. Maura sat between Jane and the boxes, shuffling the boxes back and forth so they could see which doughnuts were where and figure out who was going to eat what. Generally, Maura preferred the simplicity of a delicious standard glazed, but tonight _everything_ sounded good. Jane, however, was a bit pickier, but Maura was happy to eat the coconut-covered and the maple-flavored that Jane refused.

Once at the house, Maura realized she was stickier than she’d generally prefer, her fingertips tacky against the door of the cab as she exited, but her impulse to clean up was forced to be secondary to making sure Jane got out of the car without incident.

“You okay?”

“I’m not _that_ drunk,” Jane insisted. To her credit, she seemed to have no trouble staying upright once she was standing, though she did teeter a bit as Maura loaded Jane’s arms with the stack of doughnuts so she could have a free hand to unlock the door to the house.

When they were inside, Jane moved right for the sofa, promptly depositing the three boxes on the cushion next to her. Maura immediately made her way to sink to wash her hands and when she glanced back at the living room, Jane was in the process of laying down on couch.

“Okay, we should just go upstairs. Otherwise you’re not going to want to get up.”

“I already don’t want to get up.”

Maura chuckled fondly, then approached Jane, holding her hands out. “Come on,” she coaxed.

Jane sighed and grumbled as she forced herself to sit upright again, then with apparent great effort, she allowed Maura to take her hands and rose to her feet. Maura slipped her arm around Jane’s waist to help steady her, but it wasn’t until she was clinging to Jane to maintain her own equilibrium that she realized the way the edible was making her body feel--light, and warm, and a little unsteady.

Luckily, Jane’s arm around her shoulder steadied her, and they kept their balance together. By then, it was easier just to hold onto one another as they slowly made their way upstairs. The situation was so absurd that Maura kept intermittently giggling about it. For her part, Jane kept asking her what was funny, but would then simply start laughing herself.

Once upstairs and near Jane’s door, Jane heaved out a breath. “I guess this is me.”

But Maura wasn’t ready for the evening to be over. The candy was certainly affecting her, but her research on the subject indicated that the effects would probably linger for several more hours, and would possibly intensify. Being alone and high was much less appealing than being high with Jane, whose own state of intoxication seemed to be making her a little more handsy than usual, so she tugged at Jane’s waist, making up an excuse. “You’ve been drinking tonight and I would feel better monitoring you. Come to my room.”

Jane snorted. “Please, I’ve slept off benders worse than this.” But she allowed Maura to lead her to her bedroom. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to have a doctor in the house.” Jane laughed at her own joke, but it sent Maura into a full wave of giggles.

“Yeah, the medical field is…” Maura was certain she had something deep and meaningful to say about her profession, but in the moment, all that came out was, “Wild. Just, crazy.” Jane burst into laughter at that, and Maura was momentarily indignant. “What? It is!” But Jane’s laughter was infectious, and soon they were next to Maura’s bed, trying to contain themselves.

Maura stifled her laughter finally, and then said, “Alright, get in the bed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane muttered, kicking off her shoes and flopping down on top of Maura’s comforter. She made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan as her body went limp, relaxing into the mattress. “Mmkay, yeah, I’m staying here,” she exhaled.

Laughing, Maura fell onto her side of the bed, turning on her side to face Jane. Jane’s head turned on the pillow to face Maura, though she stayed on her back. “You really should sleep on your side,” she told Jane.

“Mmhmm,” Jane grunted, and with great effort, rolled over onto her side. Her hand sprawled out, landing half-touching Maura’s, and she vaguely patted Maura’s hand. And somehow, within seconds, her breathing was heavy, and she was almost snoring.

Not quite ready for sleep herself, Maura was a bit disappointed that Jane had already nodded off, but she slid off the bed with as much grace as she could muster and quietly undressed and put on a nightgown, then performed her nightly hygiene ritual.

When she was sinking back onto the bed, Jane’s eyes flew open and she propped herself up. “Was I asleep?”

“You dozed off, yes.”

“Hrm.” Jane blinked, then sat up. “Gotta use the bathroom,” she muttered. “Not to barf.” she clarified.

“By all means,” Maura gestured to her own bathroom, and Jane swayed her way over to it. Maura tried to check her phone while she waited, but it was kind of hard to concentrate on what she was doing, so she set aside the phone before long.

Jane emerged after a few minutes, “Hope it’s okay I used some of your mouthwash.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Absolutely,” Maura replied, and then she noticed Jane was unzipping her pants, and anything else she might say died in her throat as Jane’s jeans slid down her legs and onto the floor. She continued to stare without any awareness of her ogling as Jane got into bed and under the covers in her t-shirt and black underpants, and Maura became aware of the fact that her arms were busy under her t-shirt. She was baffled until Jane pulled her bra out of her shirt sleeve by one strap and tossed it on the floor.

Jane settled into the bed, facing Maura. After a moment, she muttered, “Hey, Maura.”

“Hmm?” Maura lay facing Jane, getting more comfortably into position.

“Why can’t you trust atoms?”

“I...what? I’m not sure I agree with the premise of your question.”

Jane was shaking her head, a slow grin forming. “Maura. You don’t get it. You can’t trust atoms... _because they make up everything_.”

It took Maura a second, and then she laughed. Almost immediately, her brain conjured up something Kent had told her in the lab. “Why can’t atheists solve exponential equations?”

Jane scrunched up her face as she considered the question. “I don’t know.”

“Because they don’t believe in higher powers.”

There was a guffaw from Jane, a guttural, silly sound that made Maura smile even wider. “You’re a nerd,” she said, pushing at Maura’s shoulder. Her hand lingered after the light shove, resting against Maura’s bicep.

“I don’t think that’s ever been up for debate.” Maura leaned into the contact, the slope of her pillow pushing her head more toward Jane.

“Tell me another one,” Jane requested. Her hand trailed along the length of Maura’s arm, fingers catching once they reached her hand.

“Okay,” Maura made an effort not to focus on the fact that Jane’s fingers were looped around her own. It wasn’t like her to not address something directly, but she didn’t want it to stop and she worried that calling attention to it might spook Jane. “Why shouldn’t you argue with a decimal?”

“Because they always have a point,” Jane answered, ducking her head to hide her grin. It brought their faces even closer, so that their foreheads were almost touching.

“Looks like maybe I’m not the only nerd.”

“We had a really big, terrible joke book when I was a kid.” Jane looked up at her, head still ducked slightly, shifting up so that there was the barest contact between their foreheads.

Two points of contact. Maura was quite aware of both of them. There was a sensation in her body, like an electric humming, though Maura wasn’t sure if that just meant she was getting more high, or if there was something happening between herself and Jane. She groped for another joke. “What did the femur say to the patella?”

Jane’s brow furrowed. “Dunno,” she managed. Her eyes slipped closed.

“I ‘kneed’ you,” Maura answered the joke.

Jane let out a breathy chuckle, her face tilting toward Maura so that her nose gently brushed against Maura’s. “I get it,” she mumbled, and she laughed softly for a few more moments, then fell silent, her face relaxing.

Maura was pretty sure she had dozed off. She didn’t want to move from where their faces were almost touching. The sensation was so warm, so inviting, being so close to Jane. But half-holding Jane’s hand the way she was felt strange, somehow more overtly intimate than the fact that they were practically breathing the same air. Maura slowly began to withdraw her hand, but Jane’s hand just tightened, keeping hers in place. Jane exhaled, a drowsy almost-snort, and subsided into sleep again.

Maura closed her eyes, certain the exhilaration of the sensory experience would keep her awake, but the tingly hum filling her body like its own heat lightning ushered her to sleep, her nose still barely brushing Jane’s.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! :D

Jane woke up too early, her head throbbing with a dull ache, the not entirely unexpected hangover already thundering. Her mouth was dry, and she groaned slightly as she tried to get her bearings.

“Morning,” Maura greeted, her voice subdued.

“Ugh,” was the only response Jane could muster at first. She forced open her eyes, grateful that Maura’s bedroom was dimly lit. She could make out Maura’s figure across the room, lacing up sneakers. “What’re ya doin’?” The words slurred together, but she managed them.

“I’m going for a run. I feel great, I slept very well.” Jane grunted in response. “I assumed you would want more sleep,” Maura continued, “But you should drink some water first. I have a bottle here for you, and some painkillers.”

Jane lurched up from the bed, eager to at least wet her mouth. Maura stood over her and watched as she drank the water and swallowed her pill. When Jane settled back down, Maura approached and brushed her hair back from her head, feeling her forehead for a moment. Her hand felt cool, soothing, and Jane closed her eyes, making a soft sound in her throat.

“You just keep resting,” Maura finally said.

_Easy enough_ , Jane thought, willing sleep to help the rest of her hangover fade away.

She woke up what felt like a short time later to a small voice saying, “Aunt Jane?”

She blinked open her eyes to find TJ standing next to the bed. Jane made some sort of indistinct sound as a greeting, then found words. “What’re you doing up here?”

“Aunt Maura said you’re not feeling good, so I thought you might want to watch cartoons.” He held up the iPad.

“He also understands if you would rather sleep,” Maura commented quietly. Jane felt so completely nonfunctional that she wasn’t all that surprised she hadn’t noticed Maura was in the room, too, but in retrospect it made sense. TJ was too polite to come into Maura’s room uninvited. Maura looked sympathetic and uncertain as she regarded Jane over TJ’s shoulder. She still wore her running clothes and her tank top was tight across her chest, something Jane wasn’t sure she should be staring at with TJ right there.

Jane looked away, back at TJ, who was nodding solemnly at Maura’s words. Jane had already made up her mind. “Cartoons sound great. Get up here.” As hungover as she was, she wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to hang out with her nephew.

“Shoes off, please, TJ,” was Maura’s only request before she headed into her bathroom to shower. TJ complied and scrambled up onto the bed, queuing up something for them to watch, his small fingers quickly navigating the screen with practiced ease.

“Aunt Maura’s bed is so comfy,” TJ noted as he snuggled down on top of the comforter.

Jane wondered, again, what TJ thought their relationship was, but she was far too exhausted to think or talk about it. Besides, she was starting to wonder what was happening between them, and if there was something to process there beyond them both being intoxicated the night before, trying to process that with TJ would just be confusing for them both. So she settled down and focused on the show.

Maura emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed from her flowy, summery top and designer jeans, down to her modest, at-home heels, and leaned over on her side of the bed to see what they were watching. The neckline on her shirt was low, which meant that Jane was staring at the iPad screen with an unnatural fervor. Even if TJ did think she and Maura were married, he didn’t need to see Jane ogling her.

TJ explained to Maura a little bit about what they were watching, but Jane wasn’t really listening.

She couldn’t ignore being addressed directly, however. “Jane, do you have a status update on your condition?”

Jane chanced a glance up toward Maura. “Feel a little better,” she got out.

“You should eat.” Maura’s tone sounded like one she’d likely use in the clinic. She was speaking as a doctor and Jane had no argument against the suggestion.

Except the fact where getting up out of the bed seemed impossible.

“Uh, give me a minute and then I’ll come down?”

“Stay here. I’ll bring something up to you.” Maura placed a cool, gentle hand on Jane’s forehead, which seemed extraneous, as Maura knew there wouldn’t be a fever associated with Jane’s state.

TJ, on the other hand, couldn’t know that. “Are you sick?” he asked, pressing his own small hand to Jane’s face.

“She just indulged a little too much last night,” Maura explained.

“What’s en-bolge mean?”

“Remember when you ate too much Halloween candy?” reminded Maura. Yet another experience Jane had missed while she was in DC. Though, she was kind of glad she hadn’t been there to witness it.

TJ scrunched up his face. “Ew and I barfed on the carpet.” He cast quick, concerned glance to his aunt Jane. “Are you gonna barf on the carpet?”

“I don’t think so, bud.”

TJ seemed satisfied and settled back down against his pillows and they continued to watch cartoons after Maura headed downstairs. The program was entertaining, but Jane was still drowsy, enough so that she dozed as they relaxed together. She was awoken by Maura’s return to the room.

Jane had assumed whatever Maura brought her would be just a small plate of toast or something, but she was carrying an entire tray of breakfast food: eggs, toast, turkey bacon, orange juice and a cup of steaming, much-needed coffee.

There were also two doughnuts on two small plates, but those were immediately removed and placed on the small end table next to the arm chair in the room’s sitting area.

“TJ, I normally don’t allow food in my bedroom, but I thought you deserved something special today,” explained Maura.

Within seconds, TJ was in the chair, carefully balancing one plate on his lap.

Jane sat up and eagerly began to to eat. Though she was still feeling the effects of her hangover, mostly in her tired head, her stomach felt alright, and the food smelled delicious. Maura perched on the edge of her side of the bed, holding the other doughnut plate. Jane stifled a chuckle as Maura took a big bite of glazed doughnut and groaned in pleasure, eyes rolling back.

By the time Jane was almost finished eating, Angela was upstairs, calling for TJ, who had very carefully eaten his doughnut over the plate and was proudly showing Maura that he had not made a mess. Angela poked her head into the bedroom moments later. “TJ, your father wants to make sure your suit still fits, he’s downstairs.” TJ bounded downstairs with a child’s enthusiasm, and as he left, Angela spoke dryly to Jane and Maura, “Why Tommy didn’t think to check before today is beyond me.”

“I did advise him to do so a few weeks ago,” Maura agreed.

Angela spotted TJ’s forgotten sneakers on the floor and retrieved them, then regarded Jane, assessing her with her gaze. “How’s your college party recovery going?” she asked, sounding a little amused.

Jane shrugged, “Fine. Or I will be soon, anyway.”

“Well, I hope so, because graduation in a few hours.”

“I know, I know,” Jane groaned, putting down her fork and leaning back.

Maura circled to her side of the bed, “I’ll take this downstairs if you’re finished.”

“Oh, Maura, I was hoping you’d finish helping me with the cupcakes,” Angela addressed her.

“Certainly, Angela,” Maura replied. She was next to Jane now, and her hand trailed down Jane’s wrist to catch her hand for a moment. Jane barely had time to give a half-squeeze before Maura’s hands moved to the tray. As she lifted it, she caught Jane’s eyes with a regretful half-smile, and turned to follow Angela out of the room.

Okay. Something was definitely happening. Jane’s belly lurched with excitement, so powerfully that she worried for a split second that her hangover stomach wasn’t quite ready for food. Even after last night, though, it seemed so surreal that Jane couldn’t help considering ways she might be misinterpreting the situation, but that sensation was a strong, physical gut feeling she felt pretty confident about. Something had to be happening.

She willed her heart to stop pounding as she gingerly rose and searched for her pants, which were folded along with Jane’s bra on the chest at the foot of the bed. Jane pulled her pants back on on the off-chance that TJ came back upstairs for something and headed for her own room to take a shower.

The house was chaos as the Rizzoli clan prepared for TJ’s graduation. Maura and Angela were icing cupcakes while Tommy wrangled TJ into his suit, trying as best he could to keep his hair nicely combed. By the time Jane was showered, dressed in one of her work pantsuits for the occasion, and made her way downstairs, Frankie and Nina had arrived, and everything was almost too loud and intense for Jane, who was still sensitive, although her headache had nearly faded.

Jane sat at the breakfast island, because Angela, Maura and now Nina finishing up the cupcakes was quieter than Tommy and Frankie arguing about TJ’s clothes across the living room. Maura caught her eye as she sat down. “Hopefully, the effects of last evening are fading by now, yes?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired and you people are loud.”

Maura laughed. “Tell me about it.” She put down the icing bag she was holding and sidestepped around Angela and Nina to pour another cup of coffee for Jane, who accepted gratefully.

Thankfully, Jane wasn’t asked to help with the pastries--her mother and Maura were aware of her culinary limitations--so she was free to sit and drink her coffee while she watched them work and tried to tune out the chaos of the house. She watched Maura especially as she worked. Maura was such a methodical person, there was a practiced ease to many of her tasks, whether in the kitchen or the morgue, and Jane enjoyed watching her skill in carefully decorating cupcakes. Even if she suspected the artistry would be lost on the kindergarteners who were likely to stuff their faces before giving the food much attention. And when Jane was sure no one was paying any attention to her, she let her gaze fall to the low neckline of Maura’s top, taking in the hint of soft curves beneath. She couldn’t resist, though she didn’t let herself stare for long, especially not with her mother right there.

And sometimes, Maura would notice Jane watching her, and would briefly meet Jane’s gaze with intense eyes and a subdued smile. It made a rush of warmth spread over Jane’s body even after Maura returned her attention to her task.

“What are you two up to?” asked Angela, who was currently giving Jane a rather intense side-eye from along the kitchen island. Jane’s heart lurched at being caught, doing what she wasn’t really sure. “It’s like you’re plotting something.”

“We’re not plotting, Ma,” Jane mumbled, forcing her eyes down toward her coffee.

Maura slid a glass of water in front of Jane. “You need to hydrate.”

“I’m fine,” Jane insisted, though she accepted the glass.

“You should listen to her, she’s a doctor.” It was as if Angela couldn’t help just chiming in, at any time.

“You _are_?” Jane asked, looking to Maura with feigned incredulity.

“Oh hey, that reminds me,” Tommy crossed the room toward the kitchen. “I have this thing and I was wondering if you could look at it, Maura.”

“Ew, this is not the clinic!” Jane thrust an arm forward, stopping Tommy in his tracks. “How many times do I have to tell you? Maura is not your personal physician.”

But Maura stepped around Jane and smiled at Tommy. “I would be more than happy to consult with you about it later.”

Jane could hear Tommy muttering to Frankie about how “it’s not like it’s on my junk or nothing,” as they continued making sure TJ was ready for graduation.

“Why do I have to wear a tie?” protested TJ. “Aunt Jane isn’t wearing a tie!”

“Aunt Jane is a girl, she doesn’t have to,” explained Tommy.

“But she’s wearing a button shirt and a jacket, just like Uncle Frankie.” TJ looked back and forth between his aunt and uncle.

Frankie shrugged. “You’re the fashion expert, Maura. You explain it to him.”

“Generally,” began Maura, “when one doesn’t wear a tie, another accessory, like a pocket square or lapel pin is used to balance the aesthetic.”

Both Frankie and Tommy stared, then Tommy looked down to TJ. “That make any sense to you?”

“Here,” said Nina, as she dug through her purse, “I think I have something.” She pulled a small round pin out of the inside pocket. Even from where Jane was sitting, she recognized the Boston Police Department seal. Nina secured the pin to TJ’s lapel, then he turned to Maura for approval.

“You look very dashing,” she said.

“What’s that mean?”

“Debonaire.”

TJ raised his eyebrows and looked to Jane.

“You look good, kid.”

“Oh! Thanks!”

Jane caught Maura’s eye again and crossed her own, which made Maura smirk. Jane noticed Angela watching her shrewdly and drank half her water glass to give herself something to do.

But even the knowledge that Angela was watching didn’t fully deter Jane from seeking out another glance at Maura, and their eyes met briefly, and Jane felt like the air between them was hot somehow.

Whatever was happening, she didn’t want it to stop.

* * *

 

The concept of kindergarten graduation was quite charming to Maura, and she was very eager to attend. Educational milestones deserved to be celebrated, and even if this was quite an early one, it was still significant, and she was happy to have been accepted as part of TJ’s family so that she could celebrate with him. Especially since, despite his reluctance to wear a tie for the occasion, TJ seemed to be excited and proud of himself. Maura was proud of him, too, and wanted to make sure he knew it.

So while Tommy escorted TJ to the backstage area of the little auditorium to meet up with his teacher and classmates, the rest of the Rizzoli group claimed a section of seating as close to the front as they could get. Maura ended up at the end of the row next to Jane, who looked especially good in her button-up shirt. It was late spring, almost too warm for a button-up, though Maura had to admit that perhaps Jane had simply had good foresight, because inside the auditorium with the air conditioning blasting, Maura felt a bit chilly in her own short-sleeved summer blouse.

That wasn’t the only reason that Maura was sitting close to Jane, however, though Jane did notice her condition. She smirked, “Cold?”

“A little,” Maura admitted, pressing closer so that their shoulders were touching. Jane moved then, prepared to take off her suit jacket, but Maura stopped her with a hand. “That’s not necessary. And I’m not...inebriated enough to consider wearing a fashion faux pas at the moment.”

Jane laughed. “What, this doesn’t match your shoes?” she teased. Maura elbowed her in response, and though they weren’t pressed together anymore, they were still sitting close. Maura was beginning to acclimate to the air, and as more people filled the space, it didn’t feel quite so chilly.

While waiting for the ceremony to begin, Maura glanced through the small program they’d been given at the door. It listed the kids and their favorite things to do in school, and provided an outline of what the ceremony would entail. “Ooh, there’s a group song,” Maura told Jane.

“Yeah?” Jane leaned over to look at Maura’s program. She’d stuck her own in her pocket coming into the auditorium and clearly didn’t feel inclined to pull it out. “Guess that explains why Tommy says TJ’s gotten the same song stuck in his head all week.”

But even after looking over Maura’s program, Jane didn’t really move back in her seat, she stayed leaning toward Maura. Their shoulders were touching again. Maura leaned in slightly herself, enjoying the contact, but the hushing of the audience turned her attention to the stage, where a smiling woman who was, according to the program, the principal of TJ’s school was crossing to the podium to give the opening remarks.

Jane shifted in her seat as she realized the ceremony was beginning, though she was still quite close to Maura. But now she crossed her legs, toward Maura, and the toe of her shoe tapped Maura’s ankle lightly. It seemed almost accidental, but then Jane didn’t move.

At first, Maura didn’t move either, uncertain if she should draw attention to the way their feet were almost touching. She listened to the principal, who described with relish how proud she was of the kindergarten classes and expressed how important early childhood education was for ensuring a bright future. Maura was momentarily swept up by the principal’s enthusiasm for education, which clearly matched Maura’s own, and Maura felt a strong, irrational, emotional response to the realization that they were about to celebrate the commencement of young minds beginning an educational journey that would enrich their lives. Maura’s heart felt full of her love for education, and with pride for TJ, who from everything she had heard had excelled in kindergarten.

As the principal’s speech began to indicate it was concluding, Maura became aware again of the prolonged contact between herself and Jane. Maura’s legs were crossed at the ankle, and she grew bold enough to lift her foot to gently press against Jane’s shoe. She was afraid this would make Jane withdraw, but instead, Jane’s foot gently stroked against her shin, and as the principal finished her short speech and the room applauded, Jane leaned close to Maura’s ear. “What’s next?”

Maura was already basically pressed against the chair arm closest to Jane, but she moved even closer and held her program low for them to both look at it. Jane’s arm was on the armrest, supporting her as her body leaned toward Maura to share the program. Maura’s wrist that held the program was stabilized on that same armrest, close enough to feel the brush of the cuff of Jane’s suit jacket sleeve. They both pretended to stare with great interest at the program as the applause around them died down and TJ’s teacher approached the podium.

Despite Jane’s proximity, and the warmth and faint scent of her shampoo that came with it, Maura’s attention settled on Miss Schmidt as she began with a short speech of her own discussing how rewarding it was to be in her profession and to help introduce young people to a love of learning. Again, Maura felt that swell of emotion, that love for education and her own gratitude for the opportunity to help shape TJ’s young mind, even if her role was comparatively smaller than his teacher’s, or his father’s.

There was a strange longing in Maura for more of that feeling, more of the pride and gratitude that came with guiding and educating a child. She knew she would have more opportunities as TJ grew, but it was a different sort of longing, one she couldn’t quite place. As she glanced at her program as Miss Schmidt finished her speech and began to call the names of the children in her class to each come out from backstage and be applauded while they shook the principal’s hand, that longing was replaced by something else as she stabilized her wrist on the armrest and realized how close she was to Jane’s hand. She could feel the warmth of Jane’s hand, almost touching hers, and she shifted her own just a little more, making the barest bit of contact.

Neither of them moved at first as they watched the first few children make their way across the stage in various forms of formal dress and a range of childish awkwardness. Then Jane’s hand was moving, her pinky just barely stroking Maura’s thumb.

Maura felt a wave of desire in her abdomen at the contact, a little thrill of possibility. She was fairly certain something was building between them, and she wasn’t quite sure when or how the tension might break. She feared moving too fast or too abruptly and interrupting whatever possibility was unfolding. She didn’t necessarily need Jane to make the first move, but she did need a much stronger green light to move forward with, especially considering her own recently intense struggle with her attraction to her friend. Though it seemed less and less likely that this was Maura’s own wishful thinking, if there was one thing Maura wasn’t going to risk on a guess, it was their friendship.

But as she watched the children cross the stage, waiting for the alphabet to progress far enough to reach “Rizzoli,” she realized that the two desires she felt so deeply in her body at the moment were not separate, but part of the same impulse. She wanted a partnership with Jane, and she wanted to raise children with her.

Just thinking about it produced a little scandalous thrill, as the idea of fantasizing about a romantic future with Jane still felt so taboo. But at the same time, it wasn’t an entirely new fantasy or desire, and remembering that brought back the dull ache Maura still carried over Jane’s miscarriage, over the loss of the child they’d planned to raise together. Until now, that experience was the closest Maura had come to imagining and hoping for a romantic partnership with Jane in her future. Otherwise, it had remained an impulse she had largely quashed, and hadn’t even fully let herself realize was something she wanted. Now Maura was hit with a yearning in her chest so strong it took her breath away. To ground her emotional swell, she sought Jane herself, always her constant, and seeking some sort of substantiation of her feeling, she moved the program to her other hand, and, keeping it level to shield her actions, wrapped her thumb around Jane’s pinky, in the barest form of hand-holding possible.

And though it still wasn’t the blaring signal Maura needed, it was a positive one, that brought with it a surge of elation: Jane’s hand shifted and her own thumb stroked Maura’s, ever so gently, but also with definite intent.

* * *

 

After the ceremony, the rest of the family stood by while Tommy was apparently being given introductions to every single one of TJ’s classmates.

“You know,” said Frankie, “it kinda feels like the old days, when all of us would work a case together.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jane was wearing one of her old work suits and Maura was always far too put together to be looking over dead bodies.

But Nina was the one who elbowed him and challenged the sentiment. “Yeah, except I was always back in the office, while you guys were out in the field.”

“And you stopped wearing these nice shirts a while ago,” said Maura, taking the opportunity to lightly adjust the collar of Jane’s shirt.

“It’s fine,” Jane muttered, playfully slapping at Maura’s hand. “They always have to be dry cleaned and then I’d forget to pick them up. I can at least throw my t-shirts in the wash.” She fidgeted with the collar, still eyeing Maura, who was offering an amused smile in return. “Anyway, the biggest difference between then and now is that the only murder that’s about to happen is between me and that cake.” She’d been tossing glances toward the massive sheet cake since they’d arrived and she’d been looking forward to the go-ahead for refreshments.

“We can go out for dessert later, if you want,” offered Maura.

“But I want _that_ cake,” whined Jane. “With the sugary frosting and--”

“--Carcinogens,” interjected Maura. “In the artificial dyes.”

“Why do you like ruining fun?”

“I do not!”

Everyone else in their group begun to move toward where Tommy and TJ stood, so Jane decided she and Maura should follow. Eventually, there was cake and punch and, by the time Jane climbed into Maura’s car, she was content with the her sugar intake.

Whatever was going on between them, and Jane was confident they were moving toward something, it seemed like maybe they’d have a few minutes alone to address it, but then the back door of the Prius opened and Angela was in the backseat.

“We’re going to Gino’s Italian,” she said, pulling her seatbelt on.

“Ma, I know. Tommy already told me.” Jane looked at her mother in the vanity mirror, rather than turn around. “Hey, why don’t you ride with Frankie and Nina, in case they don’t know.”

“They’re in the car with Tommy. I told them I’d ride with you because, frankly, I hate the way he drives, like a bat outta hell.”

Jane tried to center herself with a deep, yoga-style breath. Maura was all smiles at Angela and didn’t seem bothered as she put the car in drive, though there was a sideways glance to Jane that suggested Maura was disappointed to postpone whatever they could have discussed if they were alone.

The rest of the day continued with similar interruptions, preventing them from talking about...whatever this was. Though it didn’t keep them from finding moments to let touches linger, here and there. That evening, they ended up on the couch together, while everyone else swarmed around the living room and kitchen, as if they all didn’t have their own homes.

At least here they had wine.

Much as Jane wanted to outlast the houseguests so that she and Maura would finally have a moment to themselves, she was also exhausted from her morning hangover combined with a day full of her very social family and an elementary schooler’s excitement. She tried to stay a part of the conversations going on in the room around her, though most of her attention was on the way her legs tangled with Maura’s under the throw blanket. There was definitely some purposeful contact.

But even the thrill of that wasn’t enough to keep her from dozing off as she finished her glass of wine. She caught herself a few times nodding off, then vowed to stay awake, but ultimately, she fell asleep on the couch across from Maura.

Jane woke much later, in the middle of the night. A light was left on in the kitchen and one in the living room, and her family was gone. Except for Maura, who was asleep on the other end of the couch, though she woke the moment Jane began shifting and untangling their legs.

“Geez, I must’ve been asleep for awhile,” Jane mumbled.

Maura took a deep breath and blinked, seeming to collect her wits. “Yes, you nodded off before everyone left.”

“What about you?” Jane stood up a little unsteadily, her body still heavy from sleepiness, and offered Maura her hand, though she leaned against the couch as she did so.

“I never quite made it upstairs, I guess,” Maura admitted, taking Jane’s hand and getting to her own feet.

They didn’t let go as they climbed the staircase. For Jane, it was both a way to prolong the moment and the contact between them, and the result of her own exhaustion that made her move particularly slowly. The closer they got to Jane’s door, though, she began to wonder what might happen.

They paused at Jane’s door, still holding hands. The air felt heavy around them, like staticky air before a storm, and Jane wanted to act, wanted to ground the energy. She honestly thought about just kissing Maura right then until she took stock of her mouth, dry, with the souring tastes of garlic and wine lingering on her tongue. She knew then it was not the right moment, and finally said, “Well, goodnight, Maura.”

She couldn’t bring herself to let go of Maura’s hand until Maura finally pulled back, though halfheartedly. “I’m about to fall asleep on my feet.”

“I thought doctors could stay awake for days.”

“Goodnight, Jane.” Maura casually continued down the hall, leaving Jane to shuffle into her room, thoughts of possibility in her mind as she resolutely determined she needed to express what she was feeling sooner, rather than later. Just as soon as she got some sleep.

* * *

 

Sunday was a lot like Saturday. It was a regular Rizzoli family day at the house, something Maura looked forward to, though there were times, like now, where she missed when the quiet outweighed the horseplay and shouting at the television.

Angela was already brewing coffee when Maura came downstairs, a good twenty minutes before Jane appeared. Wanting to give Jane any time or space she needed before addressing the shift in their personal dynamic, Maura was conscious of not cornering her or pulling her away from the family activity, just in case she was feeling wary of anything.

Though, with the way Jane kept catching her eye through breakfast, Maura wondered if it wouldn’t be prudent to find an excuse to escape to a quieter part of the house. Except, at the moment, there was a baseball game on the television, which meant Jane (or any Rizzoli) would not be moving out of sight of the screen until the final inning ended.

Jane sat in one of the armchairs, drinking beer and shouting at the players along with her brothers. Maura preferred to simply watch, knowing her voice couldn’t possibly sway the outcome of the game.

She casually perched on the arm of the chair, a hand on Jane’s shoulder as she intended to ask if she needed another Peroni. Instead, she noticed the tight tension of Jane’s trapezius muscle. It was common for Jane to try and stretch and crack her neck, especially given her height.

“When is the last time you really stretched?” she asked.

Jane shrugged. “I don’t know, when’s the last time you dragged me to a yoga class?”

Maura smirked and shifted on the arm of the chair, turning more inward toward Jane. Now with both hands on Jane’s shoulders, Maura began to gently press her thumbs into the muscle, using a basic massage technique to attempt to loosen the tension.

Jane began to pull away, “You don’t have to--”

But Maura held her in place. “ _Relax_.” Jane relented and Maura continued, focusing on first the left shoulder, then the right. “You should be drinking more water.”

“There’s water in the beer.”

“Not the same, you know that.”

“Why are you lecturing me on a Sunday?”

“Hey, Maura, if you’re giving out free neck rubs, mine’s killin’ me,” said Tommy from across the room.

“Here,” said Angela. She immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and began squeezing.

“Ow, _Ma_! That’s too hard!”

“That’s because you don’t hold still.”

“I think you bruised my spine.”

The exchange between Angela and Tommy was enough to keep everyone from hearing the low moan Jane made as Maura continued. While it was obviously a reaction to the release of tension, it sounded somewhat erotic. She slowed and patted Jane’s shoulders. “I’ll make you an appointment.”

Jane’s shoulders sagged and she was momentarily sedate. “Okay.” She upturned the beer bottle and drained the contents, leaving Maura to determine whether it was because of the fact they couldn’t seem to find time alone together or because the current Red Sox player had just struck out. Either way, she was compelled to remove the empty beer bottle from Jane’s hand and replaced it with a glass of water.

When Jane looked up at her, Maura simply said, “ _Hydrate_.”

* * *

 

By dinnertime, Jane was torn between being grateful for her family and wanting them all to immediately leave the house, which was her usual default when it came to her brothers and mother. But this weekend, in particular, had left her with a lot to consider and a deep desire to have some alone time with Maura. There was also the fear that, if they did have a chance to talk, they might be saying very different things. Except, there were bumps and nudges under the dinner table that said otherwise.

She wondered if this was something she needed to talk to her therapist about. And then she mentally grumbled over the fact that she was seriously allowing therapy to help her make life choices, because it went against her own stubborn nature to figure everything out without any help.

Just before dessert, Maura’s phone rang.

“Isles,” she answered.

It was followed by Frankie’s phone sounding off and Jane knew what it meant. She ignored the fact that he answered, “Detective Rizzoli,” because it still made her jealous.

“I guess that’s more dessert for us,” said Angela, as Maura and Frankie exited out the front door.

“Do you ever tag along?” Jane asked Nina.

“Usually not on the preliminary investigation,” Nina replied. “Why? You need to live vicariously through someone?”

Jane shrugged and accepted the peach cobbler her mother had dished out for her. “Maybe. I just miss it.”

“I don’t know why,” said Angela. “All those dead bodies. It’d give me nightmares.”

“Someone has to look at them so they can catch the bad guys,” countered Jane.

“Yeah, and the part about chasing down those bad guys is the part that always has me worried.”

“Well, I’m not chasing anyone now.”

“What about when you get the new job?” asked Nina.

“ _If_ I get it,” Jane clarified, “it’s more consultation than field work.”

“But you’re hoping it means more crime scene work,” Nina confirmed.

“Better than desk duty.”

“You don’t mind the desk stuff, do you, Nina?” asked Angela.

“I don’t. But BRIC investigations are different than the detective reports. I don’t think I’d last too long, pulling files all day.”

“See, Ma? Even the computer nerds think my desk work is boring.” She shot a glance to Nina. “No offense.”

Nina laughed. “None taken. I wear it proudly.”

Jane was disappointed by Maura’s departure, but she tried not to show it and enjoyed the remainder of her evening watching more baseball with the rest of her family. As she and Angela cleaned up the kitchen while Nina straightened the living room and Tommy got TJ ready to go home, Angela asked her in a low voice, “So, what’s bothering you?”

“What? Nothing, Ma,” Jane replied, a touch of irritation in her voice. She didn’t mean for it to be there, but Angela had interrupted her from her musings about Maura as she played out various scenarios in her head.

“Oh, please, how many times do I have to tell you about the silver cord?”

“What are you talking about?” Jane asked, resigning herself to whatever conversation her mother wanted to have.

“The unbreakable bond between a mother and her child.” Angela sounded exasperated, and as she explained it, Jane realized it did sound familiar. “Janie, I _always_ know when something is wrong. You can talk to me.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jane replied quickly. This was definitely not something she wanted to talk with her mother about, and in her mind, shutting Angela out was the best way to enforce that boundary.

“If you say so,” Angela muttered, sounding hurt. Jane ignored her own guilty feeling and they continued cleaning the kitchen in uncertain silence.

Jane headed upstairs to her own room that night, staring down the hall at Maura’s door a bit wistfully. Maura wasn’t home yet, and Jane was tired. She supposed whatever conversation they needed to have would have to wait, maybe until this case was over.

* * *

 

“Jane,” Maura whispered. It was morning, and early, and Jane was an indistinct mass twisted in sheets on her bed. “Jane?”

Jane finally shifted, rolling over a bit in bed, “I’m not running today,” she mumbled.

“No, Jane,” Maura opened her bedroom door wider, letting in more light, which made Jane shove her face into a pillow, “Do you want to come to the crime lab with me today?”

Instantly, Jane’s eyes were wide open and she started sitting up a little. “Yes! Um, yes, yeah, let me shower real quick.”

“Okay,” Maura chuckled, “I’ll put coffee on. Nina’s picking up breakfast for everyone.”

“Great,” Jane kicked her sheets off her legs, forcing Maura to pause a moment to take in Jane striding across her bedroom to her bathroom in a tank top and underpants. “Gimme five minutes,” she called over her shoulder.

“Okay,” Maura said again, her voice weaker this time, and she shook aside her thoughts and headed downstairs, making an effort to compartmentalize so she could focus on the case.

True to her word, Jane was downstairs in about five minutes, her hair damp as she straightened her clothes. She wore a work suit, with a t-shirt this time, and for a moment, it felt familiar as Jane filled a Red Sox travel mug with Maura’s coffee and declared herself ready to head to the precinct.

By the time they were in the car, which Maura had to insist she drive, Maura had to remark on it, “It feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Kinda,” Jane admitted. “I hope if I get this other job that I’ll get to work a lot with BPD.”

“Me, too,” She truly missed working with Jane.

They fell silent for a moment after that, and Maura was sure it wasn’t just nostalgia that was making the silence stretch awkwardly. She took several breaths, almost speaking, but couldn’t quite figure out what to say, until finally Jane said, “So, uh…” and trailed off.

Maura laughed, “Yeah,” and began composing her thoughts, trying to figure out how much to reveal, when a sound from the dashboard interrupted.

“Incoming call from Kent,” the Prius announced.

Maura sighed, and answered reluctantly, “Isles.”

“Hey, Maura, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the body from last night.”

“Kent, I am on my way in right now. I’m probably two minutes away.” Maura hoped her exasperation didn’t show in her voice, as it really wasn’t Kent’s fault that he had bad timing.

“Oh, really? Oh, that’s great, well, I guess I could just wait for you then?”

“Yes, I’ll be down there as soon as I can, I just have to get Jane signed in as a consultant.”

“Oh, you have Jane with you? Even better. I have a feeling she’s probably seen something like this before.”

“Hi, Kent,” Jane said, sounding reluctant herself, “Happy to help.”

“Oh, hi Jane!” Kent greeted enthusiastically as Maura turned a corner, and BPD was in sight.

“I’m parking now, I’ll see you soon.”

“Alright, I’ll wait for you,” he agreed, and disconnected the call.

Maura pulled into a parking spot and sighed, turning to look at Jane. She was smiling a bit herself, looking uncertain, and the eye contact lingered for a moment before they both had to confront that the moment had passed, and Maura said, “Come on, let’s get you signed in.”

“What do you think Nina brought for breakfast?” Jane asked.

“Maybe you should see the body first before you think about food,” Maura replied with a smirk.

“Please,” Jane scoffed, “I’m not...I’m not Frost.” The words were halting, but even the fact that Jane had mentioned him was significant. Maura placed a hand on Jane’s back, a gesture of sympathy, and they exchanged half-smiles, an acknowledgement that Frost’s absence still hurt, as they entered BPD together.

Maura’s hand lingered on Jane’s back, though, for different reasons, and Jane didn’t seem to mind, though as they approached the front desk, Maura was forced to drop it.

Hours later, Maura had to admit defeat. In all honesty, her plan to bring Jane to the precinct had an ulterior motive. Yes, it was partly to give Jane a boost and a thrill to come assist with an investigation. There were elements of this case that Maura knew were areas Jane had investigative experience with, so bringing her in as a consultant had been entirely ethical and was proving beneficial. But she’d also intended to take advantage of some time alone together in the lab. What she hadn’t counted on was the word of Jane’s presence in the building spreading and ultimately leading to near constant disruptions from other detectives wanting to say hello and catch up.

Jane, at least, seemed happy to spend some time with her old colleagues, even if it meant heading upstairs for a while, to give Maura a bit of quiet as she finished the autopsy. The assistance Jane was able to provide between interruptions had at least given them a lead on where to look next, so the effort hadn’t been wasted. At least not professionally.

They caught dinner with Frankie and Nina, but then Maura needed to spend more time in the lab and Jane had promised her mother help with a new mattress, so they parted for the evening. In part, Maura was glad for a longer window to consider what she needed to say and she knew from watching Jane’s other relationships during their development stage that her friend preferred to really think things over before committing to any serious discussion.

And...with a nervous thrill, Maura realised that’s exactly what this was, a developing relationship.

* * *

 

On late Tuesday morning, Jane’s day was vastly different that they day before, when she’d been sipping bad coffee and swapping “dumbest criminals ever” stories with her former co-workers. Instead, she was wrestling with the sink trap in her bathroom. Her long, wild hair made it a regular bit of maintenance in her life and handling it while Maura was at work kept her from having to argue about why Maura didn’t need to hire Tommy to do it.

“Okay, buddy, I need that bucket,” she said. TJ was in her care for the bulk of the day, with Tommy out on the job and Angela running errands.

“Then what happens?” he asked, handing the bucket to Jane.

“Then we clean all the cra--uh, junk out of the trap.”

“Which part is the trap? Like for a mouse?”

“Your dad doesn’t tell you about any of this?”

TJ shrugged. “Nope.”

“Well, look and listen, because this is the family business.” She placed the bucket under the pipe she was about to open and then pulled the U-shaped trap out, dumping out all the slime and hair that had gotten caught in it. “This part, that’s the trap, catches all of stuff that might get stuck in a different part of the pipes that we can’t get to. So it’s good to clean it out regularly.”

TJ frowned. “I thought being police was the family business. It’s what you and Uncle Frankie and Aunt Maura do.”

“Technically, it’s what I _used_ to do and Aunt Maura is a doctor, not a cop.”

“But she works for the police?”

“With them, yeah.”

“What does she do for them?”

“Well, she…” Jane wondered how much she should tell a six-year-old about what a medical examiner’s job entailed. “She explains all the science stuff to us, uh, to the police when they need help.”

“Oh, cool.” He peeked into the bucket. “That sounds more fun than this.”

“I thought little boys liked slime and gunk.”

TJ shook his head. “That’s just gross.”

“Yeah,” Jane laughed. “I guess it is.”

* * *

 

Sometime that afternoon, Maura began to receive texts from Jane.

**I’m finally reading those pages you asked me to look at**

Nearly a week ago, knowing that finals were over and that Jane might be looking for something to do, Maura had asked for Jane to read some pages of her writing. It was more of her erotic fiction and, at the time, hadn’t seemed like it might lead to anything other than critique. Now that they were engaged in this flirtation, she suddenly began to wonder if Jane might read anything into it.

**And? Thoughts?**

**It’s good**

**I like it**

**But maybe it’s not totally believable?**

That wasn’t something Maura had expected. It was a relatively basic seduction scene between a male and female character. It was meant to entice, but there wasn’t anything about the scenario that was fantastic beyond reality.

**Which part?**

**The panties**

Maura had included a moment in the seduction where the female protagonist casually removed her undergarments and placed them in the pocket of her lover. Though it subversively challenged social norms, nothing about it went so far as to defy physics or anything of the like.

**I disagree.**

**I just don’t know how she got them off and into his pocket without someone seeing**

**It’s possible.**

**Whatever you say, Doctor**

Later that night, while Maura was still in her office, she received another text from Jane.

**Tomorrow night. Dinner at the Dirty Robber. Our booth. Let’s talk. ;)**

Maura felt a flutter in her abdomen that turned into a rush of heat that settled lower. Her body felt very awake and alert as she allowed the words to wash over her, and she re-read them, several times. As she considered her reply, another text came through.

**PS my mother will be working but it’s one of her busy nights so I know she’ll leave us alone**

It made Maura grin. It wasn’t nearly so smooth as her previous text, but she knew it was Jane assuring her that she did, in fact, want to talk about the same thing Maura had been considering all week.

Maura had her reply, then.

**Great. It’s a date. ;)**

Wednesday was typical, though there was a certain sense of tension from the last few days that had been replaced with anticipation. Even when they had moments to themselves, they didn’t press any conversation beyond what they’d already been discussing, like the case Maura had been working or Jane’s random plumbing projects. A time had been set and, at least in Maura’s case, she was well-prepared and looking forward to it. She even found herself taking steps the way she did before a date, even considering the color of her underwear, though that was probably unnecessary. They were planning on _talking_. And, as far as anything physical, they hadn’t yet crossed any particularly new boundaries beyond playful hand-holding. Still, there was something to the old adage of “dress for success” and Maura’s choice of undergarments gave her a personal boost of confidence in knowing that, if the evening did head in a particular direction, she would be properly attired for it.

They were meeting at the bar, as Maura was coming from work, though she stopped off at the house to park her car and walk the few blocks to the Dirty Robber. Whichever way the evening was bound to fall, a nice casual walk home on a summer evening would be good ambiance. When she arrived, Jane was already in the booth, sipping on a Blue Moon. She was dressed casually in her usual v-neck t-shirt, though this one was a deep cobalt blue Maura didn’t recall seeing her wear before, so perhaps it was new.

A glass of red wine sat on the table across from Jane and Maura slid into the space.

“It’s not from a box,” assured Jane.

Maura laughed. “Thank you.” She sipped the wine, noting the smoky notes with a hint of vanilla. She couldn’t place the specific winery, but she could tell it wasn’t a cheap glass.

“How was work?”

“Average,” answered Maura. “We wrapped that homicide this morning.”

“Good.” Jane took a long drink from her beer. When she set it down, she began to fidget with the silverware setting. “So, uh...” Maura reached across the table to steady Jane’s hand. It was an simple effort to offer comfort, but Jane’s hand flipped over, palm up, and her fingers closed around Maura’s. “I guess this is happening.”

_Indeed._ Maura had so much she wanted to say and so much she wanted hear from Jane.

“Hey! I thought we might see you two here!”

Maura watched as Jane visibly cringed at the sound of Giovanni’s voice. She, too, had a similar reaction, though she had better practice at internalizing her more emotional reactions. “Hello, Giovanni.” But even Maura’s practiced politeness was strained.

“Oh hey, I don’t wanna interrupt or nothin’. You two look like you’re having a romantic night out. I just wanted to introduce you to Trina.” There was, in fact, an attractive, dark-haired twenty-something young woman with Giovanni’s arm wrapped around her. “Can I buy you a round? Let me buy you a round. I think it’s so great that you two have been together so long. Babe,” he began to explain, “Jane and Maura have been together for, uh…” He looked to Jane, “What, like, five years? More? Anyway, it’s great. Tequila shots on me!”

Maura was not in the mood to shoot whatever cheap tequila Giovanni was about to request. However, she felt that maybe the evening could use a bit of lubrication given what was currently happening, so long as it was top shelf and only a single shot. “You know what, let me buy this round. I have a particular favorite that I think you’ll like.” She slipped out of the booth only to have Giovanni and Trina occupy what had been her side of the table.

“Hurry back... _dear_ ,” called Jane. “And--”

“Three limes, yes. I know.”

* * *

 

Jane was face-to-face with an overly eager Giovanni and a seemingly indifferent Trina while Maura was at the bar ordering, and she did not know what to say.

Thankfully, Giovanni never did know when to stop talking. “So, ahh, what’s going on? Is it your anniversary or something?”

“Err,” Jane glanced over, hoping to see Maura returning already, though she had just gotten up. “Yeah, sure, we’re celebrating our anniversary,” Jane shrugged.

“That’s great,” Giovanni nodded enthusiastically, then put his arm around Trina’s waist. “We just celebrated our anniversary,” he said, pride in his voice as he drew Trina close. Trina, somehow, seemed to melt into him and smile. “Yeah, a whole ten months together,” Giovanni kissed her cheek, which delighted her somehow.

“Oh, well, happy ten month…’anniversary,’” Jane tried not to roll her eyes.

“Thanks. It’s been really great, especially now that Trina’s staying up here for awhile.”

“I bet,” Jane forced a grin, glancing for Maura again. Where was she?

Trina spoke to Jane directly for the first time. “Are you always this high-strung?”

“Excuse me?” Jane was more surprised than offended.

Trina shrugged, “You seem nervous. Don’t worry. Giovanni told me about his history with you two. I’m not jealous.”

It was the last thing on Jane’s mind, and she had trouble following the convoluted path of Trina’s assumptions for a moment, and could only offer more awkward small-talk like phrases. “Okay, well, I’m glad we settled that.” Jane pretended to relax, for Trina’s sake.

There was an excruciating pause, in which Jane considered just pretending to go to the bathroom and leaving with Maura, when Maura slid back into the seat next to her, in fact, _right_ next to her. “They’re pouring the shots right now,” she reported.

“Oh, man, thanks!” Giovanni enthused. “This will be great. Trina, babe, a toast with these two is like, good luck. They’re the most stable couple I know.”

“Oh, I dunno, we’ve had our ups and downs,” Jane played along, mostly because it gave her an opportunity to put her arm around Maura’s shoulder. “Right, _babe_?”

“Far more ups than downs, though,” Maura winked at her.

“That’s true,” Jane agreed.

“Plus, they’re hot,” Giovanni stage-whispered to Trina. It was immediately followed by a fleshy _thunk_.

“Sorry about him,” Trina addressed Jane and Maura as Giovanni caught his breath. “I always tell him to think before he speaks. But anyway, I’m used to couples like you. My sister’s a lesbian. And her girlfriend’s high-strung, like you,” she indicated Jane. All this was said with a breezy casualness that made Jane suspect there was more Trina than met the eye.

Maura stifled laughter at Trina’s assessment of Jane, and Giovanni rasped out a “Sorry, babe,” at his girlfriend.

“Aww, you’re too cute to stay mad at,” Trina replied in a sickening sweet voice. Jane decided there couldn’t be _that_ much more to her, at least not much more that was interesting.

Luckily, before Trina and Giovanni could really start to drool over each other, Angela arrived with a tray of shots. Jane almost withdrew her arm from around Maura as an impulse, but she forced herself to stay still, heart pounding as she tried to feel casual about it.

Angela didn’t appear to react to the way they were sitting as she placed the shots and limes around the table. “Oh, hello, Giovanni, what are you all celebrating?”

Maura answered quickly before he could reply, “We are toasting to new experiences with old friends!”

Jane pressed her lips together, waiting for Angela to react to _that_ , but she didn’t appear to think anything strange was going on as she regarded them all with a smile, “Well, that’s great, I hope you all have a good time catching up. And who’s this?”

“Oh, this’s my girl, Trina,” Giovanni sat up to make introductions, “Trina, this is Jane’s Ma, one of the nicest ladies I’ve ever met.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and then Angela had to hurry back to the bar. Jane relaxed as her mom departed, her arm still draped around Maura’s shoulder.

“She sure brought a lot of limes,” Giovanni noted. There were two small dishes of lime wedges on the table among the shots.

“ _These,”_ Jane said, pulling one of the small bowls toward her, “are for me. You guys can share the other ones.”

Maura was about to say something and Jane suspected it was probably to inform the table about the liquor’s history and vintage, but Giovanni interrupted, as expected.

“I want to make a toast to Jane and Maura. You’re good people and it’s nice to see good people when they’re happy and in love.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” said Maura.

Jane simply toasted and downed the shot. She knew Maura wouldn’t settle for anything but the best. It was smooth, really good stuff. She almost didn’t need the limes, though they were her favorite part, so she chased the tequila with them, anyway. She watched as Maura, who rarely ever did shots, easily tossed the drink back and set the glass on the table, her hand casually dropping below the tabletop to rest on Jane’s knee.

Jane watched Giovanni and Trina react to the shots and then settle back against the booth. She wanted to try to coax them out. “So...that was a great shot we shared, you guys, but--”

“So, hey, tell me,” Giovanni interrupted, “Are you guys, like, engaged yet?”

“Uh...well,” Jane started, but she glanced at Maura for help. There was the continued ruse with Giovanni, and then there was the fact that they hadn’t had a chance to discuss what anything happening actually meant yet.

Maura surprised her by replying, “We were beginning to discuss something, yes.”

“Oh, man, that’s great. Where are you gonna get married?”

“Listen,” Jane played along, but to keep Giovanni in check, “Nothing official yet, so don’t tell anyone, but we’re planning it to be a small thing, at Maura’s house.”

“Oh, that’s great, I thought it’d be someplace real fancy, since Maura’s got expensive taste.”

“I did consider getting married on the rim of a volcano, but I would be just as pleased with something more...intimate.” Her hand began to gently caress Jane’s thigh.

“Well let me know when it is, I’ll walk you down the aisle, you know, since your dad turned out to be an asshole and all,” Giovanni stated, gazing at Jane with an annoying sincerity.

Jane had to suppress the automatic urge to defend her father, and subsided, “First of all, you’re right, he is, and second of all, no one’s walking me down the aisle.”

“Oh, right, it’s a lesbian thing, huh? How do they do it then?” He frowned in confusion turning to Trina for help. “Her sister’s a lesbian,” he said by way of explanation to Jane.

“Yeah, we heard,” Jane said, reaching to grab Maura’s hand. “Listen, uh, we have a thing, and...we’ve got to go?”

“Oh, yeah? That’s too bad. But it was good to see you.”

“Mmmhmm!” Jane nodded and elbowed Maura to move out of the booth.

“Trina, it was lovely to meet you and,” Maura was still being prodded. “Okay, see you soon!”

“You should really consider that volcano thing,” said Giovanni. “It sounds _awesome_!”

“We have about ten seconds before he starts asking my mother about wedding plans.” Jane spoke directly into Maura’s ear as she pushed her toward the door. Once they were outside, Jane asked, “Where’d you park?”

“I walked over.”

Jane hummed in disappointment, then sighed. “I guess it is a nice evening for it. Just...walk fast.”

“In a hurry?” Maura asked, amused. She slipped her arm through Jane’s, noting how right it felt to stroll so casually, arm in arm, like they’d been doing this every day for years.

“I’m just being practical,” Jane replied, “my mother works until late, so the sooner we get home, the more time we have to...talk.”

“If you knew your mother worked late tonight, why didn’t we just plan to meet and...talk...at the house.”

“I...thought dinner would be nice? And maybe being around other people would make things less, uh, awkward? Little did I know…” She was still irritated that Giovanni had interrupted, though the warmth from the tequila was keeping her just relaxed enough to not really care.

“Do you really think it would be so awkward if we were alone?”

“I…” This was something Jane had been thinking about for days. “I guess I just worry I’ll say the wrong thing or do something weird.”

“You’re worried I have high expectations of you?”

“You write all kinds of fancy romance stuff where ladies slip their underthings into people’s pockets. I don’t know what you’re looking for!” Jane laughed, but there was a bit of honesty to it. She worried she couldn’t possibly meet Maura’s needs. Jane had never been with a woman, how was she supposed to anticipate anything? Especially at her age?

“I still insist it’s entirely possible.”

“Why? Have you done it before?” Suddenly, Jane felt the urge to check her own pockets. Was Maura trying to seduce her this way and she hadn’t even noticed?

That made Maura laugh out loud. “No, I’m simply convinced it could be accomplished with some basic sleight of hand technique.”

“Oh, now this woman is a magician?”

“I hadn’t given this particular character an occupation, but that’s a good idea!”

“Great. You can keep the byline on that one.” They were on Maura’s block now and Jane was acutely aware of what might be about to happen when they arrived at the house.

* * *

 

They were mostly silent as they cleared the last block to Maura’s house, the anticipation palpable between them. Maura slipped her arm out of Jane’s to unlock the kitchen door, and then ushered her inside. Jane slowly walked into the kitchen, as if it were unfamiliar to her, and settled against the counter in a casual lean.

Maura had initially considered that maybe they would want to talk some more, and assumed she would be making them tea or maybe even coffee, but as soon as she stepped onto the kitchen tile and she took in Jane’s inviting posture, she realized she wasn’t sure how to express herself verbally at the moment. She had been finding excuses to touch Jane, and Jane had been handsy in return, for _days_ now, and now that they were finally alone together, and Maura had much more of a green light, talking was the last thing she wanted.

Still, she wanted to ensure that Jane wanted something physical before she made a move. So as she leaned against the counter opposite Jane, she found words, “So, did you want to talk, or…?”

In answer, Jane reached out and grabbed Maura’s blazer, pulling Maura’s body to her own. Maura’s hands settled on Jane’s hips, and there was a breathless moment as they faced each other, a hair’s breadth apart, until their eyes dropped to one another’s lips, and they closed the distance together.

The sensation of Jane’s lips was so heady, Maura found herself gasping in air through her nose, as she had forgotten entirely to breathe. She exhaled a tiny moan that was almost a hum against Jane’s lips. Maura’s knees shook, and she steadied herself by shifting over slightly, her hands on the counter on either side of Jane, pinning her in place. There was a gasp from Jane at this, and the kiss deepened as Jane’s hands clutched at the back of Maura’s blazer, pressing them even closer.

The kiss broke as they caught their breath and Maura ensured she had her balance. Jane’s eyes were wide, bright, her cheeks flushed. They had time to grin at each other, reveling in the intoxication of their first kiss, and then they were surging toward each other again, mouths pressing together. As much as Maura was certain they were both desperate for contact, they were savoring the kisses, allowing them to progress naturally, even if the pace was almost torturous. Maura held Jane’s hips again, and Jane made a low sound in her throat as their kisses deepened. It felt to Maura like that sound reverberated down her entire spine, and a warmth began building low in her body.

* * *

 

Jane already knew she didn’t have anything left to say. It was happening, and all she knew was she felt something like lightning in her entire body, drawing her to Maura. Every time they’d touched over the last few days, it had been building, and Jane felt like she might burst.

She was also a little nervous, however, given her lack of experience. But she realized how little it mattered when Maura was right in front of her in the kitchen, and Jane needed to kiss her so badly she ached.

She pulled Maura to her, confidently but with enough care that Maura could resist if she wanted, but Maura allowed herself to be easily swept up to Jane, and then Jane had just a moment to consider how surreal it was, and how excitement lurched in her belly in an eruption of butterflies, and they were kissing.

Almost immediately, Jane felt her body tremble, as they kissed slowly. Jane’s stomach leaped, her knees felt weak, she forgot to breathe. She didn’t even know something as simple as a kiss could reduce her to a list of romance novel stereotypes, and then Maura moved, effortlessly pinning her to the counter, and Jane felt the trembling in her body turn to fire as her whole body awoke. She grabbed at Maura, feeling almost clumsy, knowing only she wanted her closer.

As they pulled back from their first kiss, Jane already knew that everything had changed. They were hurtling toward something she wanted so deeply it was almost like holding back a scream. She took in Maura’s expression, eyes golden and wild and half-lidded in bliss, her grinning mouth with smudged lipstick, her rumpled blazer, and desire was like a punch in the gut, and they were pressing together again, kissing with a sort of focused passion that made Jane’s thoughts quiet. It wasn’t meditation that could quiet the mind, it was kissing Maura, and letting every sensation flow over Jane’s body like a wave.

Jane didn’t know how the wave would break as they kept kissing, as she let out a moan as Maura’s hands settled on her waist, but she was certain she was about to find out.

* * *

 

They parted again soon afterwards, breathing together with their foreheads touching. This time, Jane began to chuckle lowly, a sound of half-disbelief and half-giddiness, and a sound so like the one that had played in Maura’s erotic imagination since she’d become acutely aware of its fixation on Jane. Maura felt the swell of her libido as her body felt hot, filled with need. She pinned Jane to the counter with her hips now, pressing them flush together, and Jane’s breath hitched against Maura’s lips at the contact. Maura wanted to roll her hips, to straddle Jane’s thigh more fully, but she was acutely aware of Jane’s lack of experience with women, and forced herself to pause. But with the way Jane’s hands were trailing to settle on Maura’s hips, urging her closer, she was beginning to think Jane’s lack of experience didn’t matter much. Their kisses were getting far more desperate now, almost sloppy, and Maura’s hands sought Jane’s hair, wanting to bury her hands in it, not wanting to ever stop kissing Jane but also wanting to kiss her everywhere, all at the same time, starting with down her neck.

Her libido felt like a rushing in her ears, a singular focus on melding her flesh with Jane Rizzoli’s, and everything around them was a warm bubble of possibility, abruptly shattered by the sharp buzzing of Maura’s cell phone in her pocket.

Maura froze, then Jane froze, and Maura pulled back just enough to fumble in her pocket. Her shoulders dropped as she saw BPD Dispatch on the caller ID. Jane stared, and nodded once, and Maura answered breathlessly, “Dr. Isles.”

* * *

 

“You have to go,” Jane said confidently, the moment Maura hung up the call. They’d both fielded hundreds of those phone calls and there was no question about what it meant.

Maura groaned, sagging against Jane. “I could arrange for you to come to the scene with me,” she suggested, one hand tucking the phone away, the other still clinging to Jane.

“It’s okay. I’d probably end up distracting everyone.”

“I know I certainly wouldn’t be able to keep my mind on the case. I don’t know if I will, even if you stay here.”

“Yes, you will. You’re a genius at compartmentalizing. And in general.” Jane raised her hand to wipe at Maura’s smeared lipstick with her thumb. “But you might want to fix this.”

Maura mirrored the action, rubbing at Jane’s lips. “I got it all over you, too.”

“I can deal with it.” Jane couldn’t resist pulling Maura to her for another kiss. Maura’s lips were so warm, soft, and inviting. Unfortunately, she had to take her lips with her to this crime scene. “I’ll be here when you get back.” She reluctantly released her hold on Maura, who straightened up.

“If you wanted to wait up for me in my room, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I might fall asleep and drool on the pillows,” teased Jane.

“I still wouldn’t mind,” said Maura. She moved to re-apply her lipstick in the hall mirror, glancing back at Jane in the reflection. “I’m glad we talked.”

After Maura left, Jane rummaged through the refrigerator for leftovers and tried to take advantage of the quiet house all to herself. She even had full control of the living room television, but that didn’t seem to help the evening pass any more quickly. She flipped through a cop show, some trash tv, and the shopping channel before eventually giving up and heading upstairs to take a shower. By the time she finally settled in Maura’s bed with a book of sudoku puzzles, it was close to ten o’clock. She hadn’t heard much from Maura other than a brief update that she’d probably be later than expected, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that Jane fell asleep before Maura returned.

* * *

 

It was after one when Maura finally made it back to the house, her shoes in her hand as she quietly climbed the stairs. The bedside lamp in her bedroom was still on and it made her wonder if Jane was actually still awake, but the sight of dark messy curls splayed across her pillows, accompanied by light snoring confirmed that Jane was sound asleep.

She moved silently around the room, turning off the lamp, undressing in the dark, and slipping into the bathroom to quickly shower before dressing in a nightgown and easing into bed. Almost immediately, Jane shifted toward her, arm draping across Maura’s body.

“You’re home,” came the deep, sleepy voice in her ear.

“I am,” said Maura, curling onto her side and allowing Jane to spoon her.

* * *

 

It was on the early side when Maura woke up, and as carefully as she got out of bed, her motions also woke up Jane. “Sorry,” Maura whispered.

“S’okay,” Jane replied, considering whether she wanted to go back to sleep, “What’re you getting up for?”

“I have time for a quick morning run before I need to head into BPD to help process new evidence from last night’s homicide,” Maura replied quietly.

“A run? Can I come with?” Jane sat up, eager for the chance to spend a little more time together.

Maura appeared entertained by Jane’s enthusiasm. “Of course.”

Jane was ready in minutes, taking just enough time to pull her hair up and brush her teeth before putting on her running gear. As they circled through their usual route around Maura’s neighborhood, the conversation was minimal and mostly centered around this most recent case. For as much as Maura stuck to protocol, Jane could always work hypothetical angles to get details out of her. She was still constantly looking for puzzles and problems to solve and anything Maura was working on was always far better than sudoku or crosswords.

When they returned to the house, Jane started the coffee while Maura took a shower. Being alone in the kitchen, Jane couldn’t stop looking over to the spot where she and Maura had kissed. She’d kissed her best friend and it was definitely something that was going to happen again. And again. They were starting something new and that was exciting. And also scary.

“You’re up early,” came Angela’s voice from the side door.

“Took a run with Maura.”

“Good. Staying active after forty is good for you.”

“Ma, I never stopped being active.”

“Okay, well. I just don’t want this college life to revert you to some kind of lump that doesn’t get out of bed before noon.”

“I rarely even sleep past _nine._ ”

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

“For getting up early?” Jane asked with mild incredulity.

“For going back to school.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal!” Angela insisted.

“What a huge deal?” asked Maura. Jane never understood how she put herself together so quickly, but there she was, looking flawless in a designer dress and blazer.

“Jane’s college education.”

Jane continued to deflect as she poured Maura’s coffee into her own Red Sox travel mug. “It’s just a few classes.”

Maura apparently wasn’t having it. “A Bachelor’s degree is approximately forty college level courses. And you’re working on an accelerated program with the BCU quarter system, so you’re completing the work in a fraction of the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m taking them all now. I did half of that work over twenty years ago when I got my AA.”

“It’s a big deal,” repeated Angela.

Jane crossed her eyes at the both of them and slid the coffee mug across the counter to Maura, then poured a cup for her mother. “Well, can I at least enjoy the week and a half I have left of this break before I go back?”

“I suppose we can give you that,” said Maura. “I’ll be back for lunch, if there are no complications with the autopsy.”

Angela winced. “I don’t know how you can even think about food and dead bodies in the same sentence.”

“That’s what happens when you have _too much_ education,” said Jane, smirking over her coffee.

Maura held her head high and collected her medical bag. “No such thing.”

Jane desperately felt the urge to kiss her goodbye and there was a lingering element ot Maura’s posture that suggested she wanted the same, but there was no way it was happening in front of Angela. Not before they talked more about what this was. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

As Maura departed, Angela took a long look at Jane. “You seem like you’re feeling better.”

“I was never feeling bad.”

“Like you’d ever tell me, anyway,” Angela grumbled.

“Ma, I swear. Things are fine. I’m okay. Really great, actually.”

Angela eyed her, momentarily, then seemed to accept Jane’s status report. “Okay, good. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Ma.”

Jane excused herself to go and shower, again noting how she was alone in the quiet house. But trying to find ways to fill the daytime felt different than the previous night. She was looking forward to lunch with Maura and, before that, she had her therapy appointment. Not that she was looking forward to therapy. But it was something to pass the time.

The more she thought about what she’d need to discuss in the day’s session, the more she began to dread it. She understood the benefit of analyzing the bad stuff, even though she resisted talking about it. The good stuff, though? Why did she need to share that personal stuff with a stranger? Maybe she could avoid bringing it up. Except she knew Dr. Hendrix would drag it out of her, so she went into the appointment ready and prepared to disclose the events of the past week.

“Last week, you expressed some concern about the party you planned to attend. Did you go?”

“Yeah. It was pretty fun. I played some beer pong. It, uh, ended up being a good time.” Jane fought a smile as she recalled that night, particularly the part where Maura sat on her lap for the better part of an hour.

“That’s great,” assured Dr. Hendrix. “Did you struggle with whether or not things felt inappropriate?”

To be honest, Jane didn’t remember. By the time she’d gotten to the bar and had seen that it was being run like any other legal bar in Boston, she hadn’t worried about much. “I guess not. Everyone was carded at the door.”

“I’m asking about things beyond the legality of the drinking age.”

“Oh.” That’s right, a week ago she’d been worried about what an abstract and objective physical attraction to Maura might mean. “Well…I guess that’s when stuff started between me and Maura.”

“What stuff?”

Jane hated this. She hated talking about it. She wanted to just walk out the door. This was the kind of topic she purposely avoided and barely even talked about with Maura. “We, uh, kissed.”

“At the party?”

“No, last night. But, we kind of started, um, flirting at the party.”

“I see.” Dr. Hendrix had no visible reaction and Jane didn’t know what to do with that. Usually she was the one asking questions, trying to drag information out of someone else. “How do you feel about this progression?”

“Good, I guess.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“I…” Jane paused to consider how she actually felt about the turn of events. Maura made her happy. The thought of kissing Maura made her happy. So, “I feel happy about it.”

“So why the reluctance to talk about it, then?”

“I’m just not used it.” She’d never really enjoyed talking about her love life.

“We’ve talked a lot about Maura in your sessions,” Dr. Hendrix started, clearly steering Jane toward something. “She’s obviously someone of importance to you. You live with her. You made an effort to spend regular time with her and maintain a connection, even when you lived hundreds of miles away.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Jane frowned. “To which part?”

“Any of it.”

“She’s important because she’s...she just is.” There didn’t seem to be a point to enumerating on what was obvious.

“It can be difficult to articulate these kinds of feelings and emotions when we don’t have practice with the act of discussing them,” Dr. Hendrix spoke mildly.

“You think I need to talk about my feelings more.” Jane tipped her head back in the armchair and stared up at the ceiling. “You sound like my mother.”

“Do you discuss anything like this with her?”

Jane scoffed. “No. Not unless she pries it out of me.”

“But she lives with Maura, as well, doesn’t she?”

“Kind of. She lives in the guest house.”

“Were you planning on letting her know about the new stage of relationship between you and Maura?” Dr. Hendrix’s tone remained even, steadying.

“Yeah, eventually. Maura and I haven’t really talked about it, yet. But...it’s not like I could keep it from her.”

“Have you considered what we talked about regarding boundaries?” Jane almost prickled reflexively at one of her therapist’s favorite words, and one of Jane’s least favorite.

“You try explaining boundaries to my mother.” Jane recalled the incident earlier in the year when Maura had attempted to do this exact thing with her entire family. “She doesn’t listen.”

“I would recommend that you figure out a way to express to her, and the to other people in your life, the kinds of boundaries you feel you need.”

That sounded like a terrible idea. Jane could envision her mother clutching her chest at the idea that Jane wanted any kind of distance from her. But, she didn’t want to get stuck on this for the entire session. “I’ll think about it.”

Dr. Hendrix seemed to sense Jane closing off, and re-crossed her legs, then spoke, “What else is on your mind this week?”

Jane shrugged, and grasped for something else to talk about, finally landing on, “Uh, one time I kept getting weird texts from someone who thought I was their wife…” Dr. Hendrix cocked her head with interest, and Jane almost looked forward to relaying the unexpected turn _this_ anecdote from her life would take. It was gradually getting easier to talk about the bad stuff.

But as Jane left her session and began walking to the T station, it wasn’t her retelling of being kidnapped and tied to a replica of her own bed that was on her mind. It was Maura, and her mother, and boundaries. The excitement in her stomach about wherever her relationship with Maura was heading had been replaced by an anxious dread. Angela already seemed to realize there was something Jane wasn’t telling her, and Jane knew that she would do her best to find out what it was. But Jane wasn’t ready to talk about it with her. She barely knew how to talk about it with Maura.

She needed boundaries, and that meant making sure her mother didn’t force a conversation she wasn’t ready to have.

* * *

 

Maura was later than she’d wanted to be for lunch, due to a delayed lab report, but now she was letting herself into the house, eager to see Jane. All morning, she’d had to refocus her attention on her work, her mind often drifting to the night before and the possibility ahead.

“Hey,” Jane greeted her from the kitchen island, her laptop and a couple of printed publications open in front of her.

Maura eyed the project, wondering what Jane had so deeply delved into while she was away at work. “What’s this?” As she closed in toward Jane, she tilted her head to read one of the pages on the counter. “Classified ads?”

“Uh, kind of. It’s apartment listings.”

“For?”

“Me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, uh, I was coming from my therapy session and they always have the little newspapers on the way into the T station, so I thought I’d look.” Jane’s voice was casual, even a bit cheerful.

Maura blinked, attempting to comprehend what Jane was up to. She didn’t need an apartment. They had agreed to this particular living arrangement that was financially beneficial to Jane while she attended school. Then, a realization hit her and she began to laugh.

“You’re pranking me,” she said, swatting at Jane’s arm.

* * *

 

Jane stared, momentarily amused at Maura’s joke, but that rapidly faded as she realized Maura genuinely didn’t understand why this was a good idea, and then quickly sought to assure her, “No, no, this is something that’s for me, but it’s also for us.” She smiled, hoping that Maura understood now, because she couldn’t seem to find another way to explain her intention.

Instead, Maura’s smile dropped, and her brow furrowed, and she gave Jane a very firm look. “What do you mean, it’s for _us_?” she asked in a steely tone.

Jane opened her mouth without any idea what was about to come out. “Well, I was talking to my therapist, and she reminded me that in exploring this with you, that I need to be conscious of my boundaries and how they might change, so, you know, with Ma here, and with us figuring this out, I just thought that maybe I should have my own place so I won’t be like a financial burden, or, uh…” she trailed off and frowned, realizing she’d somehow lost the thread of her idea, which she was certain was a good idea.

Maura’s hands flew up and pushed at the air surrounding Jane. “I don’t even know where to start with you, right now.”

“I don’t understand why you’re mad about this.”

* * *

 

“You don’t understand?” Maura wasn’t even certain she understood why she was so incredibly upset, but she was already pulling the pieces together. “Let’s start with the fact that your mother isn’t some kind of Puritanical virgin who doesn’t know what her children do in relationships. Angela respects your and your brothers’ personal lives far more than any of you give her credit for.” There had been more and a few conversations centered around the Rizzoli children that Maura and Angela had shared as they became friends over the years. Generally, Maura didn’t expand on the content of their talks when discussing things with Jane. But this was relevant and, despite the fact that Maura greatly disliked using weaponized personal information, she was incredibly angry. “You really need to stop using her as an excuse not to get close to people. You love her and we all know it. So grow up. _Boundaries_ are not about shutting people out, they are tools in being communicative about what you do and do not need or want.”

“I--”

But Maura continued. “Second, you need to get it through that apparently abnormally thick frontal bone of yours that you are never any kind of financial burden to me. I am a grown woman who will spend my own money as I please. You and I came to an agreement that you would live here while you attended college and it’s a personal affront to me that you would even attempt to discredit my commitment to that agreement, no matter what might be happening between us.”

“Discredit? That’s not what--”

“Third, maybe instead of pushing people away, you need to evaluate why you always run from anyone who wants to be close to you. You’ve done it to your mother, you’ve done it to your boyfriends, and you’ve done it to me! You get scared and you run away.” Maura was shaking with anger and she could feel tears welling up, as much as attempted to force them back down. “And I don’t know how many more times I can chase after you.” She searched for more words, but everything had come out so quickly and with such force, she wasn’t sure what was left. The past few days played back in her mind, almost in reverse, rolling back time to a point before she wasn’t thinking about Jane. Except there wasn’t one in recent memory. “I’m so angry with myself for even considering having children with you.”

That gave Jane serious pause. “Wait, why would you bring _that_ up now? That’s not fair.”

Maura shook her head and pressed her hands to her face. “I just...I can’t talk to you, right now.” She needed to be alone, to have some time to process things. It was always difficult for her to cry in front of others, Jane usually was the exception, but she was currently the last person Maura wanted to appear vulnerable to. She moved for the door, ignoring Jane’s protests for her to stop and wait.

But she was done waiting.

* * *

 

Dumbfounded, Jane stood in the living room, trying to make sense of what Maura had just unloaded on her. She was pissed about the baby thing, for sure. Why would she bring up the miscarriage? It wasn’t as if she’d had any control over being shot by a criminal. And what did that have to do with getting an apartment?

She backtracked over the conversation. Or, well, the one-sided shouting that had been directed at her. Maura was _so_ wrong. Jane wasn’t looking for a new place to run away. One of the apartments was less than five minutes from Maura’s. Of course, it was well over Jane’s budget, especially if she wasn’t working. She didn’t really want to admit it, but Maura had a point about their agreement being financially beneficial to Jane. That had been the appeal and the eventual reasoning. So, then, why was she looking for a new place? It had made some kind of sense when she’d flipped through the ads on the train. Her own place meant privacy, even though her family was getting much better about respecting Jane’s bedroom here at the house. Sure, they were always over in the common areas, but TJ was the only one who ever regularly strolled in without knocking, anymore.

Okay, but she wanted boundaries. And already, she heard Maura’s words echo in her head. _Boundaries are not about shutting people out, they are tools in being communicative about what you do and do not need or want._

Jane managed a small laugh, despite herself. Only Maura would use the word “communicative” in a heated argument.

Then what was she doing? Freaking out, probably. Why was she leaving? She wasn’t. She really didn’t want to go anywhere. Would it be that difficult to actually talk to her mother about her life? Jane didn’t know if she had a specific answer to that one. But she knew Maura was important to her and she needed Maura to know she wasn’t running away.

Jane bolted for the front door. “Maura!” she called out into courtyard. No answer. She turned around to grab her phone off the counter then stepped outside and looked around. The gate was open to the street, so she ran over to it, checking the sidewalk, up and down. No sign of Maura. She began to walk toward the corner, following their usual morning run route. But when she reached the intersection, Maura was nowhere in sight. Jane dialed Maura’s number, knowing an answer wasn’t bound to happen, then moved up the street toward a coffee shop they often stopped at on trips to BPD. It seemed unlikely, but she wanted to check, anyway. When she didn’t see Maura inside, she decided to head the other direction. But there were so many places Maura could have gone. Her car keys were still on the counter when she’d left, so Jane knew she had to be on foot. When Maura’s number rang through to her voicemail, Jane hung up and dialed her mother’s number.

“Hello?” came Angela’s voice before the first ring had even finished. “Janie?”

“Yeah, Ma. Uh, I’m…” Jane’s voice was shaking as she spoke. “I think I just fucked up.”

“Jane, you should really--”

“I know, I know. Language. But, um...this is pretty bad.” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut before opening them up to stare out at the street in front of her. “I’m in love with Maura, but I think I already messed things up.”

“Oh, honey.” Angela’s voice was quieter.

“And, um, I can’t find her.” Jane had begun walking back toward the house, unsure of where else to go. “And I just need to find her so that I can tell her that I’m not running or anything, I’m just...I know I can make things hard because I’m a stubborn pain in the ass.”

“It’s genetic,” said Angela wryly.

Her voice felt ragged, far more than the usual definitive scratch. “God, I really hurt her feelings and I just want to tell her I’m sorry.” Jane was at the gate to the courtyard and she considered heading toward the other corner, but enough time had passed that Maura could have gone any direction from there.

“Then that’s what you should do,” Angela said.

“Easier said than done,” replied Jane. She saw the light inside the guest house was on, so she knew Angela was home. Without knocking, she turned the knob and entered the door, only to find Maura sitting on the small sofa in the living area. “You’re _here_?” Jane’s voice slightly echoed and she quickly realized it was coming from the small bluetooth speaker on Angela’s counter. “You had me on _speakerphone_!”

“Tommy set it up for me and now it just automatically does it.” Angela waved her hand toward the speaker. “I can’t turn it off!”

“Ma! How long has it been on?”

“I don’t know, a week or so?”

“No, I mean right now!”

“Oh, then it was on for the whole call.”

Jane collapsed back against the door and exhaled, gaze falling to Maura. “So you heard all that.”

“You were correct,” Maura spoke in a measured tone. “You hurt my feelings. And you did...fuck up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jane moved toward her, but Maura put up her hand, stopping her.

“And I accept your apology. But I would prefer to talk about this privately.”

“Of course.” Jane opened the door, then followed Maura across the courtyard into the house. The door clicked shut behind them and they were alone in the large space, now quiet compared to the blowout that had occurred there minutes earlier.

Jane turned to face Maura again, taking in her exhausted expression, feeling shame well up at the evidence of tears of Maura’s face. She had to say it again, “I’m so--”

But before she could finish, Maura kissed her, swiftly, enough to silence her, and then pressed their foreheads together and whispered, “I know.”

Jane wasn’t sure which of them reached for the other first, but they were holding each other, faces buried in each other’s necks, arms wrapped so tightly around each other that Jane could scarcely breathe. She held Maura as if the pressure of her body could apologize for her, felt Maura cling to her, wrapping around Jane, offering forgiveness. But then Maura was shaking, and Jane withdrew just enough to look at her.

Maura was crying, and Jane was so frayed by everything that just that was enough for her own tears to start welling up. Still, Maura didn’t let go of Jane, her arms still wrapped around her. She took a steadying breath and said in a raw voice, “You make it so hard to love you sometimes.” Then she laughed, though it immediately dissolved into more tears.

Jane’s dam broke then. “I know,” she sobbed, unable to control her voice. “I’m an idiot. A stubborn, fu--”

Before she could finish berating herself, Maura kissed her again, and then didn’t stop. Short kisses, necessitated by the fact that neither of them had really stopped crying, they choked back laughter and sobs as they kissed each other’s mouths and cheeks and chins and hair, and grabbed each other, only to pull away enough to look at each other, to verify that this was real.

Finally, Maura took Jane’s hand. “Come on,” she requested in a weak voice. Jane followed her upstairs to Maura’s room. They climbed onto the bed together, both so spent from everything, and Jane immediately wrapped her arms around Maura, holding her tightly until the sheer emotional exhaustion of the afternoon overtook them.

* * *

 

Maura blinked her eyes open and focused on the clock across the room. It was just after two-thirty, meaning she’d been home for a little over an hour. She rolled over so she was facing Jane, who seemed to have drifted off into a light doze because she startled awake.

“Huh? You okay?” she asked, sitting up slightly and reaching for Maura.

“I’m fine. Just observing you.”

Jane scrunched up her face. “Why?”

Maura’s reply was a kiss, light and gentle, on Jane’s cheek. She was content in this moment. There was still plenty to discuss and she knew being in a relationship with Jane Rizzoli wouldn’t always be the easiest, but it was absolutely what she wanted.

Jane turned to lie on her back and Maura immediately rested her head against Jane’s chest, reveling in the feeling of being held, of being so close to Jane that she could hear the beat of her heart. It was slightly elevated, perhaps indicating a slight tachycardia, but nothing of concern. Her heart rate was likely increased because of their close proximity and change in their relationship. Maura didn’t need to check her own pulse to know she was experiencing something similar.

“I really don’t want to get up,” Maura finally said.

Jane tightened her arm around her. “Then don’t.”

“They’re waiting for me to sign off on lab reports as soon as they come in. I had only planned on being away for an hour lunch.”

“Hasn’t Kent learned to forge your signature, by now?”

“That would be extremely unethical.” Maura sighed and reluctantly sat up. “I should head back over.” Maura dipped her head down to press a quick kiss to Jane’s brow, then got down from the bed.

“You never even got to have lunch,” Jane realized with a guilty frown, sliding off of her side of the bed.

“I’ll find something,” Maura assured her, slipping her heels back on. She reached for Jane’s hand almost without thinking, simply disliking the feeling of being apart from her, and Jane melded into her and kissed her.

But Jane also understood that Maura was needed at the precinct, and she pulled away before it could get really heated. “Come on. Sooner you go back over, the sooner you can be back here.”

“True,” Maura sighed, disengaging and allowing Jane to guide her toward the stairs.

Maura was considering what she might be able to take with her from the refrigerator to substitute lunch, but once inside the kitchen, she caught sight of two objects on the counter that hadn’t been there before.

Two sandwiches were waiting for them, one on a plate and one in a tupperware container, along with a note reading, _Love, Ma_.

Jane was, of course, examining the sandwich more closely than the note, “Peanut butter and fluff! The perfect comfort food.”

“She’s quite good at anticipating the needs of her children,” Maura replied.

“Yeah, she’s a good Ma,” Jane agreed, a rare note of affection and admiration in her voice.

Her lunch needs accounted for, Maura picked up her tupperware and her purse, ready to head back to work, when she abruptly realized that this time when she left, she and Jane could kiss goodbye.

She turned to see the same eagerness on Jane’s face, and they embraced, briefly, one-handedly for Maura, and then Jane leaned in to kiss her mouth softly.

It was a short kiss, but they lingered afterwards with their faces still almost touching before Maura spoke quietly, “I’ll be back soon,” and they parted. Maura paused halfway to the door and turned back around, “Don’t make any life-altering decisions while I’m gone.” Her tone was wry, but the warning was legitimate.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” Jane assured her with a rueful smirk.

She felt Jane’s eyes follow her all the way out the door and felt a pleasant little shiver as she got into her car. She texted Kent to let him know she was on her way and took a moment to fix her makeup in her visor mirror before pulling out onto her street. Though the drive to work was short, Maura attempted to process her afternoon as she traveled so that she could hopefully compartmentalize some things before getting back in the proper headspace for work.

Though they still hadn’t properly talked about anything that was happening, it was clear that their friendship was evolving into a relationship. And though Maura had never let herself hope for such an occurrence, it was exactly what she wanted and had wanted for a long time. It still felt a bit surreal, though she hoped that a conversation or two would help that feeling fade, and Maura knew there would be challenges as they adjusted to their new relationship dynamics, but at the same time, not much was really changing. They had been best friends for years and in that time had developed a friendship that often functioned very much like a romantic partnership. They already lived together. The biggest thing that would be changing was the sexual element.

But Maura didn’t let herself dwell on that, because she was certain she would never get anything accomplished at work if she did.

Instead, her eyes fell to the sandwich in a tupperware container. She couldn’t recall a single time that her own mother had made her a sandwich before she had to go somewhere. Though she had been a part of the Rizzoli family for a long time now, she knew that Angela’s gesture reinforced that connection and her acceptance of who Maura was to Jane, and she felt a swell of love for her family.

As she parked, she took a moment to do some quick breathing exercises and attempted to shift fully into a work headspace, but as she headed inside, she already sensed that today was going to be a difficult day for compartmentalization.

* * *

 

Jane ate her sandwich with delight. She was hungry, and her mom had made it, and even as an adult she always felt there was something extra delicious about her mother’s food. Once she was sated, she felt compelled to go check in with Angela. She had dropped quite a revelation on her earlier and had disappeared with Maura before really even fully conversing with her mother about anything.

She crossed the courtyard and knocked on the guest house door, walking in after hearing Angela’s voice welcoming her.

“Ma, shouldn’t you check who’s at the door before inviting them in?” Jane asked as she stepped in.

“Why, is there a vampire on the loose?” Angela asked from her living room chair as she set aside her iPad, raising a brow. “I knew it was you, anyway,” she waved her hand dismissively.

Jane grunted in acknowledgment and sat down on the loveseat. She stared at her hands for a moment, trying to figure out how to even start talking about this, and she tried, “So...I guess that was probably quite a phone call.”

Angela chuckled, “It was quite an afternoon, it seems.”

“I…” Jane sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why this is so hard to talk about.”

Angela’s voice was soothing. “Jane, it’s okay. You said a _lot_ earlier.”

“Yeah,” Jane nodded, “I just...it’s new for me, too, so…”

“Well, if you’re worried you shocked me into a heart attack or something, don’t be. It wasn’t exactly a surprise.”

Jane felt oddly exposed. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean, the way you and Maura are...you’ve always loved each other so much, you’d do anything for each other. For you two to be a couple just seems like a natural progression of your friendship.”

Jane relaxed a little, “Yeah, that’s how it feels to me, too. I just...never expected that I might be with a woman someday, and I…” She stopped, because she had barely even begun to process what this meant for her on her own, and didn’t know how to begin processing it with her mother.

Angela reached over and took Jane’s hand, thumb swiping over her scar. “Janie, all I care about is that my children are happy.”

Jane nodded, trying to force down the lump in her throat. “I’m happy, Ma.”

“Well, it’s hard to tell with all the crying,” Angela’s laugh was light, through teary eyes of her own. She moved to sit next to Jane and pulled her into a tight hug. It was met with a return embrace, Jane hugging back and expelling a long sigh of relief.

But, even though she was feeling much more in tune with her mother than usual, Jane could only endure so much at once. “Okay. Ma, I can’t breathe,” she said, urging her mother to release the hold on her.

“Oh, you’re fine.” But Angela relented and let go, sitting back against the cushions and wiping at her eyes.

Jane offered her hand, allowing her mother one more squeeze before finally deciding she’d been vulnerable enough for an entire week and changed the subject to something. “So, when’s the last time someone cleared out the sink trap in that bathroom?”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: Hot.

Maura only lasted for about an hour before calling Jane from the lab.

She had come back expecting only to find paperwork waiting for her, lab results that might need her eye. She hadn’t anticipated being greeted with a corpse requiring an autopsy.

Still, it was par for the course for her job, and she allowed herself a moment to shift her expectations and to acknowledge her disappointment and frustration that she wouldn’t be back to see Jane as soon as she’d hoped, and then prepared to get to work.

It was almost a relief to put on her scrubs. She had fixed her makeup before leaving the house, but beyond straightening her clothes as best she could, she hadn’t been able to take the time to make her outfit more presentable. At least if she had to stay at work longer, she could put on a fresh outfit to do so.

But aside from the comfortable routine of changing into sterile clothing, Maura found it difficult to transition into the temperament required for work. She took care of the information homicide requested first, since they had an active case to finish, and then began the autopsy on the body recovered by the drug unit.

It was slow going, which typically suited Maura fine, as she liked to be thorough, and that sometimes took time. Fortunately, the drug unit didn’t tend to breathe down her neck the way homicide, and especially a certain Detective Rizzoli, would. As Maura’s mind wandered to Jane, she gave herself a forceful mental nudge to get back to the autopsy. But already she was thinking of Jane striding through the double doors to the autopsy room with her cop swagger in full swing, with unruly hair and intense detective eyes. Just her presence changed a room for Maura, it awakened her, it made her attentive. There was her physical presence, her rugged beauty and authoritative posture, but it wasn’t only that. A conversation with Jane in detective mode could be challenging, especially since she would always try to make Maura guess. But Maura enjoyed the banter, their little intellectual standoffs.

Maura attempted to shift her focus again to her work as she lost herself in thoughts of Jane Rizzoli once more. She had performed autopsies before while enamored with someone; she knew she had been especially distracted when Ian had reappeared in her life for the last time. But this was even more extreme. Jane wasn’t even incessantly texting her to draw her away; just the _thought_ of her was enough to do that.

She would get to kiss Jane again, and soon, and Maura wasn’t sure how long she paused in her work to savor _that_ thought, until she remembered that she had to finish working before kissing could happen.

With a groan, Maura paced away from the autopsy table, as frustrated with herself as her body was by its inability to press itself against Jane’s. A lap around the room was an attempt to clear her head a bit, but by the time she made it back to the table, she was already extracting her phone and dialing Jane’s number.

“Hey,” Jane answered on the second ring, “Everything okay?”

Maura sighed, “Yes, sort of. I need you to talk to me.”

Jane was quiet for a moment, and then asked, “Talk to you...how?”

“I’m performing an autopsy right now and I experiencing difficulty focusing on my work. Please talk to me like a detective so I can stay on task.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, okay, I can do that. So who’s the victim?”

Putting Jane on speakerphone in a small stainless steel bucket amplified the sound enough that they could carry on a conversation while Maura worked, and it was easy to shift into that same old dynamic they had while working together. Jane pushed Maura to make guesses, especially as she bemoaned the fact that she couldn’t actually see the things Maura was working on, and Maura did her best to allow the scientific method to guide her conclusions rather than a pushy former detective.

By the time Maura had finished with her work for the evening and had texted Jane that she would be home soon, it was definitely dinner time. And though the intense emotions of the day and the meticulous work she’d labored over were enough to wear her out, she got into her car with renewed vigor, eager to be home with Jane.

* * *

 

Jane heard the key in the door and her attention shifted entirely to Maura’s entrance into the home.

“I’m home,” Maura announced as she walked in and began striding automatically toward her living room desk. She stopped, though, when she caught sight of Jane in the kitchen and her expression softened, a grin forming.

“Hey,” Jane replied, a spike of euphoria jolting through her guts at the sight of Maura.

“What’re you working on?” Maura asked as she began to move, placing her purse down on the desk and then beginning to circle the kitchen island.

“Grilled cheese,” Jane replied, though her attention was decidedly not on the skillet as Maura approached. Her body wanted to rush toward Maura, to close the distance between them even faster, but some quiet part of Jane’s brain had the sense to at least keep her next to the hot stove as Maura’s hands settled just above her waist.

In her heels, Maura was just about the same height as Jane was in her sneakers, which only meant they felt even more symmetrical as their bodies aligned, and Jane felt the warmth of Maura’s hips and breasts against hers as they kissed. The kiss started slow, and soft, like a greeting, a welcome home, but then it just didn’t stop. Jane’s hand settled on Maura’s lower back, urging her closer, as Maura sighed against her lips, their kisses deepening. Jane inhaled deeply through her nose as she realized she’d stopped breathing, and the heady scent of Maura’s favorite perfume seemed to swirl through her brain, transforming into a fluttering warmth that coiled through her chest. Jane wondered if Maura’s kisses would always take her breath away, she wondered why she had only one hand on Maura’s body, and as her attention shifted to her other hand, she broke the kiss, remembering what she had been doing in the first place.

“Wait,” Jane said breathlessly, turning the upper half of her body back toward the stove to give her enough torque to flip the sandwich in the skillet with her wooden spoon. She turned back toward Maura with a small smile, “Don’t want to burn your dinner.”

Their bodies were still mostly pressed together, but the haze of passion on Maura’s face had shifted mostly to amusement, “You do know where the spatulas are in this kitchen, don’t you?”

Jane leaned back to take in more of Maura’s expression, “Yeah, I know, but this is always in the utensil holder thing by your stove.” She shifted her attention to the skillet again, poking at the sandwich. “Besides, I can’t accidentally melt a wooden spoon onto my sandwich.” Not that anything like that had happened, at least not recently.

“You are quite adept at cooking with it,” Maura commented, gaze dropping to the spoon. Jane was trying to formulate a quip about being good with her hands when Maura continued, “Of course, I also know that for a long time, this was one of the only functional utensils in your former apartment.”

Jane crossed her eyes. “Well, it’s a good substitute for a lot of things if you get creative.”

Maura laughed lowly, a near-sultry sound, her eyes catching Jane’s before falling to her lips, and in moments, they were kissing again. Jane’s hand this time found Maura’s hair, her fingertips lightly trailing down the back of Maura’s neck, barely scratching at Maura’s hairline and tracing her jawline. Everything about it was still so new that Jane felt giddy, dizzy with every soft sensation of Maura.

Jane felt more than heard Maura whimper against her lips, and she was pressing closer, her hands trailing down Jane’s back and settling on her hips, bringing them flush with Maura’s once more. They could keep doing this, there was no reason for them to stop because this was officially a _thing_ happening between them, something they both wanted.

But there was still the reality of the open flame under the very hot skillet and the melty cheese sandwich sitting in it. At the very least, Jane needed to turn off the stove.

There was also the very clear and sudden sound of Maura’s stomach growling that caused Jane to pull back, lightly laughing. “Maybe you should eat?”

Maura sighed in resignation, her head dropping down to rest against Jane’s shoulder while Jane dialed the stove knob to the ‘off’ position. “I should.”

Had it really only been that afternoon when they’d kissed and cried and cuddled together in Maura’s bed? Jane felt like it had been much longer ago than a handful of hours. Especially with the ease in which they fit together, right there in the kitchen.

With apparent reluctance, Maura stepped back from the embrace and circled back to her desk to flip through her mail, while Jane plated the grilled cheese sandwich and set it on the kitchen island. Having sorted her mail, Maura was now at the sink washing her hands while Jane peered into her wine cabinet.

“What pairs well with grilled cheese?” Jane asked over her shoulder, raising her voice to be heard over the running sink.

“That depends,” Maura replied as she thoroughly soaped up her hands. “What kind of cheese did you use?”

“Cheddar and that fancy cheese that was in your fridge.”

“The gruyere?” Maura turned off the water and dried her hands, humming thoughtfully. “I have a pinot noir that would be excellent.”

“Pinot noir, got it,” Jane pulled the bottle and retrieved two wine glasses.

Maura walked back around to sit in front of her food. “Where’s yours?”

“Already ate something with Ma,” Jane replied as she uncorked the wine, “I just knew you’d be hungry when you finally got home, especially since lunch was so light.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Maura smiled warmly, catching Jane’s eye over the shimmery, deep red wine being poured into glasses.

Jane shrugged, “It’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s hard to screw up grilled cheese.” She passed a glass to Maura and stepped around to sit next to her.

Maura took a bite of her food, grunting softly with the pleasure of it. “It’s really good, Jane,” she reported between bites.

“Glad to hear it.” Jane grinned as she sipped her wine. She was pleased by the praise, though she knew Maura was also very hungry, which probably was exaggerating the experience.

They drank wine together while Maura ate, and stayed seated as they finished their glasses and talked, mostly about Maura’s day at work and the case homicide had wrapped. By the time Jane had finished her wine, her body was beginning to feel heavy, reflecting the buzz of drowsiness beginning to muddle her thoughts. It was still early, but Jane felt ready for bed, and judging from the way Maura was stifling yawns, she felt the same.

“Ugh, it’s early, why am I so tired?” Jane slumped against the counter.

“It’s been an exhausting day, emotionally, for both of us,” Maura replied in an almost clinical tone. She sighed, then continued, much more conversationally, “And as much as I really want to explore intimacy with you tonight, I’m far too drained.”

Abruptly feeling more awake, if not more energized, Jane wet her lips and her voice came out a near-croak. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Maura gazed at Jane with something like ferocity in her eyes, and then asked, “Come upstairs with me?” in a small, spent voice.

“Of course,” Jane agreed. She took Maura’s plate to the dishwasher while Maura rinsed their wine glasses, and then the two of them were climbing the stairs together, hands finding each others’ fingers and shoulders and backs as they made their way upstairs.

Jane stopped by her room to brush her teeth and wash her face in her own bathroom, and by the time she was climbing into Maura’s bed in panties and a tank top, Maura was stepping out of her bathroom in some kind of short, silky nightgown. Jane let her eyes fall to take in Maura’s body, the way the flowy garment encased curves, Maura’s smooth, toned legs. When Maura slid into bed next to her, the two of them closed the distance as one, draping their arms over one another and kissing softly.

Kissing Maura was still so new, Jane was still reminding herself that it was actually happening. Even though she had talked with her mother about this development, she hadn’t really thought about it that much, at least not in an introspective sense. She’d certainly thought about Maura a lot, and things she wanted to do together a lot, though not much specific beyond the urge to get her naked and touch her. But she and Maura hadn’t really talked much yet, either, and though Jane knew enough to know they were on the same page about their feelings for one another, she still wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to behave now that they were...well, whatever they were, as they still hadn’t talked about _that_ either.

But so far, everything between them felt quite natural, so that in most moments, Jane knew what to do, because ultimately, it was about loving Maura, and that was something Jane had done as easily as breathing for a long time. Whatever it meant for Jane’s identity and sense of self could wait. And as they continued their slow kisses, holding each other gently and close, Jane also decided, talking could wait, too.

Eventually, they parted, each resting back against their respective pillows, still facing each other. Maura was smiling in such a serene way, a different smile than the one Jane was used to, which was usually full of affection and humor. They held one another more loosely now as they shifted and settled in the large bed, though they still faced each other, and Jane basked in the newness of these soft moments with Maura, the comfort of her closeness as she felt herself wind down for sleep.

Maura closed her eyes and leaned toward Jane enough to gently nuzzle their noses together, and just as Jane closed her eyes to enjoy the contact, Maura spoke. “You know,” she began, voice low and gentle, “I do typically sleep in the nude.”

Jane’s eyes shot open, the serenity of the moment overlapping with the jolt of anticipation Maura’s words produced. Though she had only seen Maura sleep in nightgowns or borrowed tank tops, this wasn’t entirely new information, just half-forgotten. “Yeah, you said something like that before,” Jane replied faintly.

There was a glint of something like mischief in Maura’s eyes, “I’m perfectly happy like this tonight, but tomorrow night, I might like to sleep how I am most comfortable, if that’s alright with you.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s...that’s fine,” Jane felt breathless as she groped for words. A part of her wanted to encourage Maura to just take off the silky nightgown tonight, but she was too exhausted to think, and was pretty sure she wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a naked Maura right in front of her in her current state. She was also pretty sure it would make her too excited for sleep, which just seemed counterproductive. Maybe this was a case where boundaries were effective, even if those boundaries were a nightgown and a tank top, and even if Jane’s body desperately wanted nothing separating them at all.

They lay drifting off together, blinking their eyes back open intermittently to just look at each other and smile and trade lazy kisses, until Maura turned over in bed, reaching for Jane’s hand still slung over her body to keep her from withdrawing it. Jane moved closer, spooning her, and Maura lifted Jane’s hand to kiss her fingertips before holding it against her chest. Jane breathed in the subtle scent of Maura’s lingering perfume and shampoo as she finally let her eyes close and weariness bore her off to sleep, warm and safe in Maura’s bed.

* * *

 

Maura woke up in the night during one of her lighter sleep cycles, vaguely assessing her comfort and whether she needed to use the restroom or turn over. She shifted onto her back drowsily, intending to turn over, when her foot bumped something warm under the covers.

She grinned. She hadn’t really forgotten Jane was there, but waking up to turn over in the night was so commonplace for her that it hadn’t registered immediately, especially since Jane was no longer spooning her and had flopped over in her sleep to sprawl across the rest of Maura’s large bed.

Maura settled onto her other side. She had a dim nightlight in her bathroom to navigate at night without having to turn on any bright, intense lights, and it was plenty of light by which to see Jane, whose features were relaxed in sleep. Maura didn’t think she’d ever seen Jane’s brow so smooth, her mouth so soft.

She was waking up to Jane in her bed, and this was enthralling enough that Maura delayed falling right back to sleep to let the strangeness and joy of it wash over her. Jane wasn’t a dream manifestation, built of erotic longing, a vessel by which Maura’s fantasies erupted from her subconscious. Jane was real, she was Maura’s best friend, and they were falling in love. Even if that was all Maura could be sure of thus far, it was enough.

Maura moved closer, pushing Jane’s wild hair off of her pillow, reaching out a hand to gently settle on Jane’s waist. Jane stirred, grunting quietly, brow furrowing in confusion as her eyes blinked open. Maura could feel Jane’s body tense for a moment, but when her eyes focused on Maura, she relaxed again. “Hey,” she rasped in a sleep-roughened voice.

“Hey,” Maura replied quietly, moving closer now and kissing Jane’s temple. Jane grinned, letting out a happy sigh, and seeming to read Maura’s intention, turned onto her side, letting Maura tuck her hair out of the way and settle in behind her, hand settling just under her ribs as she spooned Jane.

Jane let out a contented sound somewhere between a sigh and a grunt, shifting and pressing even closer to Maura, who tightened her arm around Jane in turn. And though Maura usually considered herself too sensitive to be able to tolerate much cuddling, she fell back to sleep easily with Jane in her arms.

Maura’s alarm sounded at its usual time a few hours later, and though they weren’t pressed as close as when they were falling asleep, Maura’s arm was still draped over Jane. She felt Jane stirring as the alarm started, quiet at first so as not to be jarring, and then Maura, too, registered the sound and rolled over to grope for her phone.

For the first time, Maura was tempted to hit snooze on her alarm and fall back into bed with Jane, who was slowly turning over to regard Maura with sleepy eyes and a frown. “What time is it?” Her voice was muffled and hoarse, but the sound of it thrilled Maura.

“It’s time for my morning run,” was Maura’s reply, already preparing to shift into her normal morning routine and reluctantly pulling back the covers. “Do you want to come along?”

Jane groaned and fell back against her pillows, “I don’t know how you ever get out of this bed.”

“It’s usually much easier,” Maura admitted. She was still sitting in bed, watching Jane. She liked routine and was usually up and moving within moments of her alarm sounding. “Shall I take your response as a no?”

“No,” Jane muttered, still not moving and staring at the ceiling from her pile of pillows, “I’ll come along. I was gonna try to get as much exercise in as I could over my break.”

“Great,” Maura grinned, moving over to her dresser to find some clean workout clothes. Jane was still in bed, and as far as Maura could tell, hadn’t moved. She had a moment to wonder if she should step into the closet or her bathroom to change her clothes, but quickly decided that was silly and pulled her nightgown over her head, casually dropping it in the clothes hamper.

She still wore panties, and her back was to Jane, but she finally thought she heard Jane stirring behind her as she pulled a sports bra over her head and wrestled it comfortably onto her body. Her heart was beating far faster than was rational, considering they had been naked around each other before and Jane couldn’t possibly be seeing anything new. Maura continued dressing, back still turned to keep a modicum of modesty, and, truthfully, to avoid the temptation to start something Maura really didn’t have time for. When she had pulled on shorts and a tank top, she turned to see Jane sitting up in bed, hair in disarray and eyes wide and staring at Maura. She grinned a bit shyly as Maura met her eyes.

Feeling a thrill at Jane’s obvious enjoyment, Maura strode over and gave her a small kiss. “I’m going to brush my teeth. I’ll meet you downstairs?”

“Yeah,” Jane muttered, finally kicking off the covers and sliding off the bed. Maura suppressed a wince at the disheveled bed that Jane left in her wake as she padded out the door in her tank top and panties. Once Jane was gone, Maura straightened her bed, deciding that at a later time she would instill the habit of making the bed in Jane.

As she brushed her teeth, she realized that her bed was likely to become their bed. She wondered if her room could become their room, and felt a little anxious at the prospect of sharing her space, which was arranged and organized how she liked it. But as she headed downstairs, she decided they could figure these things out as the relationship progressed.

Jane was downstairs in shorts and an old BPD t-shirt, her hair held back in a messy but functional ponytail, pouring coffee grounds into the machine. Maura was momentarily thrown. “What are you doing? You know it’s ill-advised to drink coffee before a run.”

“Relax,” Jane closed the top of the machine and dusted her hands off over the sink. “It’s just set up and ready to go so all I have to do is push the button when we get back.”

“Oh,” Maura subsided. “That is a good idea.”

“I know it is,” Jane smirked, eyes sparkling as she looked at Maura. “You ready?”

“I am. Let me just grab my--” She stopped as Jane lifted two water bottles from the kitchen counter, gesturing to Maura with one, “Oh. Thank you.”

Jane nodded as Maura approached to take one of the bottles, and then the two of them left the house. It wasn’t all that different, the way Jane was behaving, the small favors she was doing for Maura, but it _felt_ different. Maura had always been a fiercely independent woman, almost out of necessity since she had spent most of her life essentially alone. And Jane had always been rather chivalrous, in ways that may have chafed coming from anyone else, and now the layer of romantic intention on top of it all thrilled Maura to her core. Nothing had really changed, yet everything had been transformed.

They walked the first block and a half of their route, warming up. They bumped shoulders a few times, playfully, out of an instinct to be closer together, until they eased into a steady walking pace. “So what’s the plan for today?” Jane asked.

“I need to ensure everything is running smoothly at BPD and then I have clinic hours until the afternoon,” Maura replied, already regretting the obligations she’d set herself up for. She had purposefully increased her workload a bit during Jane’s break from school, before a relationship had begun developing between them, fearing at the time that Jane’s closer proximity and availability would affect Maura’s ability to compartmentalize her attraction. Now that this was no longer an issue, all it meant was a lack of time alone together. Maura glanced at Jane next to her, eyes falling to the muscle over Jane’s lean, strong arms, and then let her gaze dart away. She needed that alone time. “What about you?”

Jane grunted in response to Maura’s question, “Well, I’m supposed to help Ma with TJ this morning, but then Tommy’s taking him to the aquarium this afternoon. I wasn’t planning to go with them.”

“Well, I should be finished with my work around four or five.”

“I’ll be home,” Jane shot her a grin, then jerked her head forward to point with her chin, “Race you to that mailbox!”

“Hey!” Maura started to protest as Jane accelerated, but then she started sprinting after her. Jane had longer legs, a competitive streak and a head start, but Maura was never one to do anything only halfway, and this drive made her a good opponent. Jane won, but barely, and then laughing and elbowing one another, they fell into an easier stride and continued their jog through Maura’s neighborhood.

Their run was interspersed with several brief races, ending with them evenly split on wins, and Maura found she was able to pour a lot of her pent-up sexual energy into the exercise. By the time the run was over, she was certainly still thinking about various erotic possibilities for the evening, but she was better able to focus on other things as well, even simple things like racing down the sidewalk.

As Maura showered, she wondered whether Jane was having similar thoughts. The way Jane had been looking at her lately certainly suggested sexual interest, though she wasn’t entirely sure what Jane would be comfortable with, considering she had never been intimate with a woman before. They would talk about it, Maura thought, hopefully tonight. She would move as slowly as Jane needed.

Once at BPD, Maura reviewed lab results and ordered tests for various pieces of evidence that had come in. While she filed paperwork in her office, her phone buzzed with a notification. Jane had made a play in Words with Friends.

Maura opened the app and smirked when she saw that the word was “sexy.”

She scanned her letters and was pleased to realize she could play the word “erotic” in response. She would have been disappointed if she hadn’t been able to answer Jane’s overture in kind.

Before too long, another notification pushed through. Maura felt a rush of heat settle low in her belly when she saw Jane had played the word “finger.”

She bit her lip as she stared at the word for a long moment, wondering what Jane might be thinking about, besides the obvious. Was Jane signifying specific intentions? Most likely it was a word she could fortuitously play. Perhaps she had no idea just how powerful the effect was on Maura.

Maura’s letters were mostly a jumble of consonants, but she was at least able to put together the word “lick.” She was attempting to stay in the headspace where she would let Jane decide how comfortable she was with the pace of the sexual aspect of their relationship, but she couldn’t deny that spelling the word brought to mind all sorts of ideas, things she was longing to do with Jane.

After sending her move, she forced herself to focus back on her work so that she could have time to eat a quick meal before her clinic hours, and it wasn’t until she was locking her office and heading upstairs to the cafe that she realized Jane hadn’t sent a move for awhile. She wondered whether that was the end of their sexually charged Scrabblesque exchange, and when another move wasn’t forthcoming as she ate her wrap, she supposed one wasn’t coming.

But just as she got into her car, the notification came. Jane had played the word “slut.”

Well. It fit with the theme, even if it didn’t elicit quite the same response as “finger.” Maura began to consider her next move when a text came through. Just seeing Jane’s name made her stomach leap, and she opened the message.

**I didn’t mean that word as any kind of insult, it was just the only thing I could play. I’m not calling you that or anything.**

Maura chuckled a little at Jane’s obvious apprehension. Truthfully, Maura wasn’t bothered by the term, except when it was intended to be degrading. It was a word she felt sexually liberated women should reclaim.

**Don’t worry. I’m not offended ;)**

She’d have to postpone her next play, since she needed to head to the clinic. Maura let her mind wander to her evening with Jane as she drove, and when she parked at the clinic, she had a new text from Jane.

**So are you really going to sleep naked tonight?**

Maura’s chest seemed to bloom with warmth. At least she knew Jane had been thinking about _that_.

**As long as you’re comfortable with it, yes, I would like to.**

Reluctantly tucking her phone back into her purse, Maura headed into the clinic to begin her shift.

The clinic usually kept Maura pretty busy, as there was almost always someone waiting to see a doctor, but Maura did have a few opportunities to check her phone during her shift, while filing paperwork or taking a bathroom break or waiting for a nurse to finish the preliminary evaluation of a patient for her. Jane’s first replies stated,

**Oh, I’m very comfortable.**

**So be as naked as you want.**

Maura pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too hard, and dashed off her own reply before going back to her work.

**Great. Then I’ll be completely nude.**

It barely qualified as flirting, really, but bantering over nudity with Jane was surprisingly erotically charged. Maura was eager to check her phone and did her best to push it out of her head as she saw patients.

When she next had an opportunity to check, she had a few replies.

**Good.**

**I’m very interested in your comfort.**

**And your nudity.**

Maura was sorely tempted to push a little, to take the banter in a decidedly more overtly erotic direction, but she also knew she wouldn’t have the capability to maintain a conversation, so she merely stalled.

**I can’t wait to be home with you.**

Back to work. It was harder to push the conversation out of her mind, but she was good at her job, and stayed on task and attentive. Her shift was nearing its end when she was able to see Jane’s reply.

**Me neither.**

**Still kinda can’t believe I get to kiss you.**

That was enough to make Maura lower her phone as she took a moment to remember in as much sensory detail as she could muster the sheer elation of kissing Jane. How was she supposed to keep working with this kind of sexual deprivation plaguing her?

But being Maura, of course, she found a way to get herself back on track (thinking about necrotizing fascilitis was a reliable libido killer), but she sent a message first.

**Me too. I’ll be home soon, and then I’m not sure when I’ll stop kissing you.**

It felt almost like being a teenager again, the titillating talk about nothing more than kissing, but the adult Maura felt the promise of something more in the tension building, low in her body, a gut-like feeling she wanted very badly to listen to.

* * *

 

As Maura worked, Jane was working on something of her own, and that something involved making sure her family left the home before Maura returned.

Both Tommy and her mother had loose plans for their afternoon, and Jane convinced Tommy to leave with TJ as soon as he was finished with his job in the early afternoon, because that way, they could be sure to take as much time at the aquarium as they wanted. And Angela was going to a bed and breakfast with Ron in western Massachusetts for the evening into the next day. Jane convinced her that a pedicure would be a great idea, and made her be sure she had her bags packed and in the car so she could leave straight from Ron’s afterwards.

She barely had time to commend herself on her success at emptying the house when Maura texted that she was on her way back. Jane had time to run upstairs and vaguely check her hygiene, making sure she wasn’t too sweaty from chasing after an energetic little boy that day. She was downstairs putting out a bottle of wine and glasses when the front door opened, and Maura arrived home.

“I’m home,” Maura called.

“Hey,” Jane tried for nonchalant, but her whole body was alive with excitement at the sound of Maura’s voice.

Maura came in to the room and placed her purse on her desk. “Where is everyone? I thought you had TJ today.”

“Tommy already took him to the aquarium. And Ma is getting a pedicure before her trip with Ron.” She grinned. “She won’t be back tonight.”

“Oh,” Maura looked at Jane with intrigue and intensity.

“D’you want some, uh...wine?” Jane managed, though she stumbled a bit over her words as Maura began to approach her very purposefully, and within moments, they were kissing.

 _Oh_. Not that Jane minded, in fact she was very interested in kissing Maura. She just thought it might be time to actually have a conversation before their relationship got more intense. But now that Maura’s soft mouth was on hers, and she had Jane bodily pinned against the kitchen counter in a move reminiscent of their first kiss, Jane remembered she wasn’t that good at talking about feelings anyway. But she was confident that she could kiss well. She’d never gotten any complaints in that department.

Jane began to slowly press back against Maura, unpinning herself from the counter and coaxing Maura slowly backward as they continued kissing, hands grasping at one another’s clothing and hair as the kisses grew more heated. Gradually, Jane maneuvered Maura to her desk, pinning Maura there and letting her steady herself against it as she pulled Jane closer.

Their mouths parted shortly after, Jane feeling her blood pumping so powerfully through her body, her brain hazy with need. She could see Maura’s chest rise as she inhaled deeply, and then Maura’s voice, low with desire, “Come upstairs with me?”

It was a question. Jane could opt out, push for wine and conversation, but her capacity for that was gone as her libido flooded her thoughts. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Maura’s heart was pounding as she led the way up the stairs. Something was going to happen, that was clear by the tension in the air between them, sharp and electric, and the flow of anticipation roiling, hot and light, through her body.

Once they were inside Maura’s bedroom with the door closed, they were pressed together once again, kissing fervently as they stood in the middle of the carpet together, a stasis to their movements as they both seemed to be waiting for the other to propel them forward.

Finally, Maura pulled back enough to meet Jane’s eyes and really take in her expression. Jane was radiant with want, wetting her lips as she caught her breath. Maura knew she must look similar, and pushed through the lusty haze in her mind to find words. They were in no state to seriously discuss their relationship at the moment, but she needed to verbalize her current desires, at least. “I want to...there’s so much I want to do with you. But I want to make sure you’re comfortable, most of all.”

Jane shrugged, eyes dropping slightly. “I...I mean, a lot of this is new, but...I think I can figure it out. I want to.” Her eyes met Maura’s again, expression earnest, her desire plainly stated by the heat in her eyes and the set of her mouth.

Maura nodded, and all she wanted was to dive back in and press their bodies together once more, but she forced herself to make something clear. “Just...please tell me if anything is...too much, or too fast, or…”

Jane moved closer, her voice dropping lower. “I will, but...it won’t be.” Her lips met Maura’s, who whimpered and felt herself melting into the embrace, heart pounding in her ears.

She grew bolder, now that they had at least affirmed their desires, and her hands slipped up the back of Jane’s shirt, flattening over the subtle shapes of dormant muscles, smoothing over soft skin. Jane’s shirt was riding up as her hands continued to explore, until Jane pulled away, enough so that Maura’s hands fell to rest against her hips, and Jane leaned back enough to tug the t-shirt over her head and let it fall to the ground, biting her lip slightly as she watched Maura.

She had seen Jane in a bra many times in her life; they’d changed clothes in front of each other often enough, but just like Jane couldn’t keep her eyes off Maura that morning when she changed into running clothes, Maura knew her eyes were sweeping all over Jane’s exposed skin like it was new. And it was new, because now, she knew she could touch it, and she knew Jane’s bare skin was a prelude to more.

Maura let her hands trail up from Jane’s hips to caress her abdominal muscles, her sides. There was the subtle knot of scar tissue on Jane’s stomach, just above her hip, and Maura let her hand focus there, learning the shape of it, its texture. It had faded and smoothed over the years, but it would always be there to some degree, reminding them both of one of the times Jane almost gave her life protecting people.

But Maura couldn’t let herself linger there, over Jane’s scar, because it forced her to consider what might have happened if she’d lost Jane that day, how they would have never been able to explore this together, how they’d never have fallen in love. It was too painful to consider, and Maura purposefully circled her arms around Jane’s body, pulling her closer, connecting their lips again. She let her hands trace down Jane’s back again, and felt Jane’s hands, which had mostly been touching Maura’s hair so far, begin to search for the waistband of her skirt, clearly trying to untuck her blouse.

As Jane’s hands groped for the blouse, Maura chuckled involuntarily against Jane’s lips, and pulled back enough to help untuck her shirt, though she let Jane actually lift it over her head and toss it aside. Jane’s reaction was similar to the morning, in that she stared, and this time, she, too, was touching, mouth parting slightly in awe as Maura felt strong hands explore the contours of her hips, flatten over her ribs.

Jane was bolder, however, because her hands didn’t stop there, and after a pause in which Jane seemed to be holding her breath, Maura felt her hands gently curve over the shape of Maura’s bra, then stop.

Maura had been watching Jane’s face, enthralled by the longing on display as she touched Maura, and now she watched as Jane exhaled quietly through her parted lips, her eyes seeming to glaze over as they stared at where her hands were.

There was a long moment in which neither of them moved, and Jane seemed frozen, even seemed to have forgotten to breathe. Maura watched her until Jane’s eyes refocused and met Maura’s, though her awed expression didn’t change.

“Are you okay?” Maura asked quietly, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

“Very,” Jane replied in a low purr, “I want to take this off.”

“Then do it,” Maura smirked.

There was another moment in which Jane still didn’t move, simply standing with her hands still cupping Maura’s breasts, and then her hands slid around, following the lines of the bra to the clasp in the back, and after a brief fumbling, Maura felt the bra fall loose around her chest, and felt Jane’s hands gently pulling the bra straps down to Maura’s elbows. Maura let the bra fall, and watched as Jane stared again, swallowed and licked her lips, and then placed her hands almost in the same position as before, now on bare skin, her thumbs barely grazing Maura’s nipples.

As Jane breathed out a barely audible whimper, Maura felt herself finally exhale at the same moment, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath. Jane’s gaze lifted again, and Maura looked into her eyes. The eye contact was like a feedback loop, and Maura felt a surge of arousal flow through her as they regarded each other, Jane’s hands still on her breasts. She saw Jane’s expression change minutely, her lip quirk up, and then Maura felt her hands moving, gently caressing.

Her eyes closed of their own accord, needing to focus on the sensation of Jane’s hands on her breasts. Jane was exceedingly gentle, her touch light and soft, taking her time in a way Maura wasn’t sure anyone had since she was a teenager and still discovering her sexuality. She knew scientifically that breasts were an erogenous area, but this contact now reminded her forcefully just how pleasurable the simple skin to skin contact could be. Every motion of Jane’s hands seemed to be felt not just on Maura’s breast, but echoed between her legs, ramping up her desire. But Maura forced herself to be patient, and opened her eyes, watching Jane, whose breathing rate had increased, and Maura took pleasure from the pleasure Jane was clearly taking in her.

As amazing as it felt to have Jane completely enthralled by her breasts, Maura’s need to touch Jane was growing stronger, becoming an almost uncomfortable buzzing through her limbs. She stepped closer, hands trailing up Jane’s sides to settle on her back, just over her bra clasp. She kissed Jane, stilling the motion of her hands, giving Jane time to process her intention. She felt a soft moan against her lips, an invitation, and she unclasped the bra.

They parted just enough to let Jane take the bra off completely, and then Maura closed the distance between them once more, bringing her mouth to Jane’s. She felt Jane’s breath hitch, a gasp through her nose, as their bodies pressed together, and Maura heard herself whimper quietly at the sensation of Jane’s soft, smooth skin against hers. Much as she wanted to revel over Jane’s breasts in much the same way Jane had done, she also just needed to feel flesh against her own. And, she was gradually making her way to the bed, coaxing Jane along with her, not that Jane needed much encouragement.

Soon, Maura had positioned herself so she was leaning against the bed, Jane in front of her, still holding one another as they kissed. Maura disengaged her mouth just enough to begin kissing down Jane’s neck, firm kisses along Jane’s jugular. Jane tilted back to allow Maura access, and Maura continued her kisses down Jane’s shoulder, trying to continue on to her breasts, but it was too awkward with the way they were standing. Maura decided they definitely didn’t need to be standing anymore, and created just enough space between them to kick off her heels. She inwardly winced a little bit at the way they landed haphazardly on the floor, but pushed it aside and lifted herself up onto the bed, hand trailing down Jane’s arm to coax her closer.

Jane moved quickly, eagerly, climbing up onto the bed as Maura centered herself on it, and then Jane was on top of her, and they were doing the same thing, kissing topless, their breasts pressed together, but this time they were horizontal. Maura much preferred horizontal, even if Jane was still half-kneeling next to her.

She moved her hands over Jane’s back, and then around her body to reach for her breasts. Jane lifted herself just enough so that Maura had enough room to actually touch them, and Maura spread her hands over them, sighing in bliss as she did so, a feeling almost like relief passing over her at the fulfillment of such a deep desire.

“Your breasts…” she started, groping for words as her fingers traced over nipples, “You have _really_ nice breasts,” she finally said, palming the contours of them.

Jane laughed, low and scratchy, “Thanks,” she replied. It was almost a question, with palpable uncertainty. She hovered over Maura, watching her as Maura focused her attention on her breasts. Jane rarely dressed in ways that accentuated her bustline, and though Maura had seen her in enough low-cut dresses and tank tops to be familiar with the size and shape of her breasts, having them bare and in her hands was something else entirely. Not exactly a surprise, but something of a revelation.

She began to sit up, wanting more leverage to explore, and Jane sat back on her heels to allow Maura access. She seemed to not know what to do with her own hands, vaguely placing them on Maura’s shoulders or hips, as Maura knelt before her and touched. Maura was becoming so elated by the experience that she needed more, and was soon kissing Jane, lingering only momentarily on her lips before trailing down her neck, shoulder, and down to her chest. She kissed the swell of each breast, burying her face between them, kissing her way to one nipple.

Jane gasped in a shaky breath as Maura’s lips grazed her nipple, and she finally seemed to know what to do with her hands, which found Maura’s hair. Maura continued the gentle manipulations with her mouth and tongue, listening for the sounds of Jane’s stuttered breaths, gauging her reactions from the gentle motion of her body pressing toward Maura’s mouth, from the tightening of her grip in Maura’s hair.

Maura let her hands trail down, tracing over Jane’s abs, as she slowly released Jane’s nipple from her lips, letting her fingers trace the waistband of Jane’s jeans, slipping just beneath it stroke along her soft skin. She let her hands center on Jane’s belt buckle, lifting her head to look up at Jane.

Before Maura could ask anything, Jane was nodding her consent, a quick and eager motion, and then guiding Maura’s face to hers to bring her in for a kiss. This kiss was harder, the passion palpable. Maura felt desire filling her chest, felt her pulse quickening throughout her body, felt arousal like a drumbeat between her legs. She tugged at Jane’s belt, working the buckle, until Jane’s hands steadied hers and deftly finished unbuckling her belt and unzipping her jeans.

Jane pulled away, falling back against the pillows so she could lift her hips and pull her jeans down her legs, kicking them off toward the floor. Maura took the opportunity to do the same with her skirt, unzipping it and letting it fall off her hips, shifting back to give herself room to untangle her legs and push the skirt toward the floor.

Jane was still back against the pillows in her panties, and Maura crawled across the bed to kiss her once more, the hand not steadying her teasing at the waistband of Jane’s panties. She lifted her head to murmur, “May I remove these?”

“Yeah. Yes,” was Jane’s reply. Though Maura may have removed the underwear with the jeans if she had been the one taking off pants, she appreciated having the privilege of slowly pulling them down Jane’s hips and down her long legs until Jane kicked them away. Maura wasted no time in pulling off her own panties, then, and tossing them toward the floor.

They were completely, purposefully nude in front of one another for the first time, Jane still outstretched and leaning back onto the pillows, though now lifted a bit on her elbows, Maura kneeling on the bed beside her. They were both looking at each other, taking in the moment. Jane was stunning, all olive-tanned skin and lean, athletic muscle. Maura’s eye scanned her body, not even sure where to focus, because everything about Jane was so attractive it almost made Maura’s chest hurt. She took in long legs, hard nipples, the smooth curves of breasts, the subtle shapes of strong shoulders and arms and abdominal muscles at rest. And she felt Jane’s eyes on her as intensely as touch.

It seemed to Maura that they looked at each other at the same moment, locking eyes, and then Maura moved, draping her whole body over Jane, seeking her lips, and needing to feel every part of their bodies pressed together.

* * *

 

Jane felt barely capable of conscious thought as she and Maura began to move closer and closer to having sex. Everything about Maura undressing, Maura’s hands on her, Maura’s mouth on her, the sensation of skin on skin was too intoxicating for Jane to do much more than experience it. She had honestly thought that she might be more nervous, or might falter somehow in her exploration of the unfamiliarity of another woman’s body. But this was Maura, and there was no one Jane had been more comfortable being naked in front of.

And now, Maura was on top of her, kissing her, and she could feel Maura’s breasts, heavy against her own, and _damn_ , Maura’s boobs. Touching them had been the fulfillment of a desire Jane hadn’t even realized stretched back much further than the few weeks she’d been aware of her attraction. They were just so soft, so round, so supple. Jane hadn’t expected the mere act of caressing them to be so arousing, but it was, and it wasn’t just her enjoying the pleasure it gave Maura. Touching them confirmed something within her, clarified that women were absolutely more attractive than men. Not even touching Casey’s fit soldier body had produced anything near this kind of euphoria.

And everything since that moment had only amplified Jane’s arousal, so that by the time they were both naked, Jane felt her pulse roaring in her ears, her body felt hot, her limbs felt light and tingly, and her brain was a mishmash of barely coherent desire, wanting to do everything at once to Maura, to map out her entire body with her hands and mouth, but also to never stop kissing her, to never stop holding her.

The initial sensation of Maura climbing on top of her made Jane’s stomach leap in elation, and now, with Maura kissing her, the sensation of their breasts and Maura’s legs leaning against one of Jane’s, the elation seemed only to grow and fill her chest. Jane also became acutely aware of the throbbing between her legs, so she parted her thighs, just barely, to alleviate it. Maura shifted in response, her legs slipping to either side of Jane’s and her hips lifting, and then she settled back down gently, angled slightly differently now, and Jane moaned aloud against Maura’s lips as she felt wetness and heat touch her thigh.

But then, as Jane’s mind was reeling at the sheer thrill of feeling Maura’s arousal and knowing she was responsible for it, Maura shifted more, so that Jane felt more of the weight of her breasts once again, and the very top of her thigh pressed down between Jane’s legs, and Jane knew for sure then that she was almost embarrassingly wet.

Maura had been kissing her mouth and her face until this point when she lifted her head to look at Jane, and Jane took in her flushed cheeks, her eyes, intense and heavy-lidded, her rumpled hair, and the heavy breaths emitted by her parted, full lips. And then she was lowering her face again, kissing Jane’s jaw and neck and Jane felt the rolling of Maura’s hips and the jolt between her legs, silken skin all over her own, fire running from her scalp down her spine, her abdominal muscles clenching and then a hard dip in her stomach, like the free-fall on a rollercoaster, and just as she realized her hips were bucking up against Maura of their own accord, her eyes squeezed shut and her head fell back and a groan erupted from her throat. Her whole body jerked with intense spasms, she felt her limbs lock up, holding Maura against her, as she bucked and cried out subdued exhalations of pleasure, and almost as quickly, the orgasm was over, leaving Jane baffled, blinking, with Maura staring at her in wonder.

“Wow,” Maura spoke quietly, her mouth curling slightly in amusement. She was still on top of Jane, but propped up so she could see her better.

As Jane processed what had happened, mortification ran through her. “I, uh...sorry,” she muttered, letting her hands fall from Maura’s back to cover her face.

“Don’t apologize,” Maura replied, her tone awestruck, and Jane lowered her hands to see that Maura was openly grinning now. “That was…” she shook her head, “So sexy.”

“I didn’t mean to, uh, finish so fast. Feels like we barely got started.”

Maura cocked her head, “Who says we need to stop?”

“ _Oh_ , right,” Jane said, trying to sit up a little, “What, uh...what’s next?”

In answer, Maura sat back and reached for Jane’s hand, the one she wasn’t leaning on, and slowly guided it until it was between Maura’s legs.

“ _Oh_ ,” Jane stuttered out again, feeling abundant wetness against her fingers, and her eyes fell shut as she focused on the sensation. Wetness, softness, warmth. Jane opened her eyes to stare at Maura, whose mouth was slightly parted, her jaw relaxed, her eyes half-closed.

Jane moved her fingers gently, trying to gauge by Maura’s reaction what she should be doing, and felt Maura’s hand guiding hers until Maura groaned out, “Right there,” and pressed her own fingers down against Jane’s before withdrawing her hand.

“Here, huh?” Jane asked with a smirk, trying to match the pressure of Maura’s guiding hand. She moved her fingers experimentally, exploring the flesh until she had a grasp of where, exactly, Maura’s clit was and how it was moving beneath her fingers. She began to stroke with her fingers in earnest, trying to see what kind of motion elicited the strongest reaction in Maura.

It was a little more difficult than she anticipated; everything was so slick that she lost her focus once or twice, and Maura guided her hand back the first time, though by the second time, Jane was able to figure it out on her own. And once she was able to keep the pressure and motion centered and steady, watching the effect on Maura was enthralling.

And Maura was just so damn gorgeous. Her perfect breasts were prominent with the delicate arch of her back, and Jane’s eyes would follow their shape down to the sensual curves of her waist and hips. Every inch of skin that Jane touched filled her with reverence. Maura was fit, shapely and insanely sexy, and Jane couldn’t understand why it took her so long to see it.

Jane was propped up against pillows, with Maura still straddling one of her legs, and Maura had shifted forward, holding herself steady against Jane’s shoulders. She was gasping out encouragement as Jane’s fingers worked, “Like that, yes,” and even “Fuck,” words that felt like heat running across her skin. Before long, Maura’s hips were moving in tandem with Jane’s hand, light undulations that caused Jane to falter a few times before she found Maura’s rhythm and kept her fingers moving with it. Maura’s eyes were closed, her head tipping back, her jaw widening, and a crescendo of moans was beginning to fall from her lips. Jane felt the hands on her shoulders tighten, the rhythm of her hips pick up, and Jane worked faster, keeping up, feeling her own face spread into a victorious grin as Maura’s back bowed and her hips jolted hard against Jane’s fingers. Jane struggled to recenter them, but quickly realized it hardly mattered, because Maura was coming hard, grinding against Jane’s palm, deep, guttural groans being forced out of her chest until the motion of her hips tapered off long moments later, and she slowly sank down onto Jane’s lap.

Jane reached to steady her with her free hand, her other hand resting against Maura’s thigh. Maura was catching her breath, staring at Jane with glassy eyes, and then she practically fell forward, her arms catching around Jane’s neck in a clumsy hug.

Laughing a little, Jane hugged back with one arm. She still wasn’t sure what to do with her wet fingers. If this were her bed, she’d just wipe them on the sheets or something, but she had a feeling Maura wouldn’t appreciate her bedspread being treated the same way.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Maura whimpered in her ear, still sounding breathless after her orgasm.

“I’ll say,” Jane replied with a chuckle, and began coaxing Maura to lie on her side, since as it stood, their current position wasn’t much more than Maura’s breasts pressing against Jane’s chest and neck. Maura moved with a sluggish bonelessness onto her side, and then Jane was able to entangle their legs and hold Maura close.

Maura sighed against Jane’s chest, her arm tightening around her, and Jane felt kisses press against the tops of her breasts. In a muffled voice, Maura said, “I really thought I would be the one to climax first. I was close for such a long time.”

Indeed, Jane realized, though it felt longer because she was thinking hard about what was going on, Maura had come very quickly. Jane grinned and kissed the top of Maura’s head. “I really liked making you, uh...climax,” she admitted, parroting Maura’s words back to her. She had spent the entirety of their friendship doing whatever she could to avoid talking with Maura about sex, and now they were having sex, which made it unavoidable, but that didn’t mean Jane knew the right things to say. Still, she at least wanted to reassure Maura. “You looked amazing.”

Maura groaned, “So did you.” She pulled out of Jane’s grasp and rolled over to reach her bedside table and grabbed a few tissues. She passed one to Jane and used the other on her inner thighs. Jane cleaned off her fingers, grateful for the cue for Maura’s post-coital hygiene standards, and Maura took the tissue from her and threw them both away before rolling back over to Jane’s arms again. Jane shifted onto her back and pulled Maura close so that her head was resting on Jane’s shoulder, then pressed another kiss onto her hair. Maura settled down, her hand sliding over onto Jane’s breast, which made Jane grin.

As they snuggled, Jane asked, “So how was work?”

Maura laughed, and Jane felt her warm breath rush over her other nipple. “It was fine. I spent the whole time fantasizing about you.”

“Did you?” Jane asked archly, “I’m sure it wasn’t the _whole_ time.”

“Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but trust me, it was never far from my mind.”

Jane let the thought of it settle, making her feel warm all over. “Well, I was definitely thinking about...similar stuff.”

“Were you?” Maura asked, sounding intrigued.

Jane was quick to deflect Maura’s interest in details, “I mean, TJ took up most of my attention, but like anytime I had a minute to think, it was about getting you naked.”

“Your mindset was certainly apparent from your texts,” Maura said, her voice dropping a little, not quite sultry, but close enough to for Jane to feel something like a flutter, low in her stomach.

Jane wasn’t sure how to respond at first, and finally went with, “Well, you definitely didn’t disappoint.”

“Mmm, neither did you,” Maura purred in response, lightly palming Jane’s breast and running fingers over her nipple. She lifted her head to watch the motion of her hand, a breathy exhale punctuating the light rolling of Jane’s nipple between her fingers. Jane squirmed slightly, feeling arousal spike down her body. She didn’t want to vocalize it, however, since they had just finished having sex. But Maura continued to watch her hand tease Jane’s nipple. Jane tightened her body, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to surface, and Maura seemed to notice, her fingers beginning to trail down to trace over Jane’s abs, her palm flattening over Jane’s solar plexus, then sliding over Jane’s hipbones and back up her abs to her breasts once more. “How is everything about you so sexy?” Maura murmured, almost to herself, as her fingers found Jane’s nipple again.

“Am...I supposed to answer that?” Jane asked, her throat tight with suppression, trying to clear the haze of horniness from her brain.

“You are, in a way,” Maura replied, her hand finding Jane’s other nipple, already stiff and hard though it had barely been stimulated, and then she ran her fingers down Jane’s abs again, but this time they continued in a very direct path until Jane felt fingers between her legs, slipping into wetness, a hum of pleasure behind Maura’s lips as her eyes closed briefly.

Jane whimpered at the contact, and Maura turned her attention to Jane’s face, seeking approval, and though Jane had nothing verbal to offer, her expression must have been enough, because Maura’s fingers began moving gently, swirling over Jane’s clit, slipping past it, further down, teasing.

“You’re so…” Maura began, until words seemed to fail her, and she could only make some sort of soft, desperate moan.

Jane certainly had no verbal response, and only knew that, improbably, her whole body was aflame with desire, and despite her recent orgasm, there was definitely another one building. She could only lift her hips to Maura’s hand, signaling that she needed more to get there.

Maura shifted, lifted up onto her elbow so that she could kiss Jane, as her fingers began to circle lower, teasing more now, the very tips pressing inside of Jane. Jane lifted her hips eagerly, groaning as she struggled to focus on Maura’s lips on hers, and Maura was still kissing her as her finger slid easily inside.

Jane’s head fell back as she moaned aloud this time, still a stifled sound from a long-ingrained habit of keeping quiet, and her motion prompted Maura to kiss down her neck and down to her breasts. Her finger stroked inside of Jane, the sensation so intense it engulfed Jane’s consciousness, and she honestly didn’t even realize it was only one finger until it retreated and Maura eased two inside.

Maura seemed overcome for a moment, and paused in her kissing of the swell of Jane’s breast, resting her forehead on Jane’s chest and letting out a breathy, “ _Fuck_ , Jane,” as she slowly pumped both fingers. The sound of a word she was beginning to react to every time it unexpectedly fell from Maura’s lips during sex and her own name in Maura’s awed voice was intoxicating, and Jane felt her body clench at the words, redoubling every pleasure.

Breathing for a moment as her fingers explored, Maura soon resumed pressing her mouth against Jane’s breast, finding her nipple and wrapping her lips around it, swirling her tongue, as her fingers began to increase the pace of their thrusts. Jane’s heels were digging into the mattress as she worked to move her hips with Maura, one hand gripping the bedspread, the other gently gripping Maura’s hair to keep her mouth on Jane’s breast. Her eyes squeezed shut until she saw sparkles of light dance, and she jerked her hips to firmly meet Maura’s thrusts a few more times before her body felt abruptly light and fluid as she arched, crashing hard with undulations of her hips and spine, stuttered groans falling from her mouth, matched by Maura’s moans against her nipple, and Maura’s fingers still moved inside her as Jane came.

Maura continued thrusting, slowing gradually as Jane began to come down from her orgasm, until the sensation was almost too much, and Jane felt spent. “Okay,” Jane got out breathlessly, releasing what she now realized was a tight grip on Maura’s hair to vaguely pat her head, as if tapping out. Maura removed her fingers slowly, and the sensation made Jane arch up once more in an orgasmic aftershock before letting out her breath shakily and subsiding back onto the mattress.

“That was amazing,” Maura said quietly, and Jane opened her eyes to see Maura staring at her, her eyes full of affection and joy.

“That’s my line,” Jane managed in a raspy voice. Never had being fingered felt so amazing before. She wondered if the men she’d been with were just clumsier than Maura, but it was true that typically, she’d previously seen that kind of act as something more for arousing her partner than for her. Not something she’d disliked or endured, just not something she got a lot out of. But now, _that_ had clearly changed.

Maura turned over to grab a tissue, but finished with it quickly before curling back up so her head was on Jane’s shoulder. Maura held her while Jane slowly caught her breath and fully relaxed after her orgasm, with Maura peppering kisses against her shoulder with every shivery release of post-orgasmic energy. When Jane finally seemed to have recovered, Maura asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Jane’s answer almost surprised her.

Maura chuckled and pulled at Jane so she rolled onto her side, then Maura kissed her, slow and sweet. She pulled away long moments later with an affectionate smile, “Then let’s have some dinner.”

* * *

 

For Maura, it was difficult to contain her utter bliss about the fact that she just had sex with Jane. It was such a profound kind of fantasy fulfillment that everything about the experience was amplified. Maura was sure she would remember every detail for the rest of her life.

She was still basking in the post-orgasmic euphoria when they were downstairs in the kitchen, wearing robes so they didn’t really have to get dressed, preparing dinner together. Jane cut vegetables, set place settings for them at the kitchen island, uncorked wine to let it breathe. And several times, they stopped what they were doing to just kiss for long moments, until one of them remembered they were cooking.

It was slow going because of the constant distraction, and the fact that it was really easy to reach into each other’s robes to engage in breast fondling. Maura didn’t really mind, because the romantic domesticity was another fantasy fulfilled. They had always had a sort of domestic rapport, both when Jane used to visit almost every day and when she moved in, and now it was enhanced with kisses. It was exactly what Maura had secretly always wanted.

They ate together at the kitchen, casually bumping their legs together and finding excuses to poke at each other. Jane seemed more relaxed than ever, until a neighbor’s car door outside caused her to turn pale and jump up to make sure her mother or family member weren’t showing up unexpectedly. She still seemed a bit shaken as she sat back down.

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if someone came in right now? We’re both decent,” Maura pointed out.

Jane shrugged, “I don’t know. I’ll feel better once I tell people. I’d much rather them not find out by walking in on us making out.”

“Well, if anyone hasn’t heard by Sunday, I’m sure we can tell them on family day.”

Jane grunted neutrally, and within a minute or so, seemed relaxed once again. When they were finished, she cleared their dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Soon, they were on the couch with their wine watching TV, which Jane admitted was what she usually ended up doing after sex. It was fine with Maura, who wanted some time to digest dinner before heading back upstairs, and they leaned against one another as they drank wine on the couch together. Another moment in which everything was the same, but enhanced with sex and romance.

But it wasn’t long before cuddling turned to kissing, and kissing turned to groping, and Jane had Maura pinned beneath her on the couch, impatiently tugging open her robe to kiss and nuzzle her breasts, their nearly empty wine glasses forgotten on the coffee table. Maura was writhing, one hand buried in Jane’s thick, dark hair, feeling so unbelievably lucky that Jane was so eager to learn her body, to make her feel good.

The loud vibration of a cell phone was enough to make Jane freeze and her body stiffen, though she relaxed when she realized it wasn’t a call. After a moment, she attempted to continue kissing Maura’s breasts, but then there was another sound, a car sound from outside that made her jolt slightly.

“Perhaps we should go upstairs?” Maura asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Jane agreed, sitting up, “Sorry, just...still kinda feel like I’m getting away with something, I guess.”

Maura sat up and closed her robe. “I can certainly sympathize with a Pavlovian response to a cell phone alert.”

They each grabbed their phones to check whose had vibrated. They had initially each left their phones downstairs, and had fielded a few texts upon seeing them when they came down to make dinner. Maura didn’t have anything pressing from Kent or Hope, so she set her phone aside. Jane reported, “It was Ma, they made it to the bed and breakfast,” and dashed off a quick response before tossing her phone beside Maura’s and pulling her to her feet. She kissed her for a long moment, and then they were hurrying up the stairs together, phones abandoned, wine glasses utterly forgotten, TV still playing a sitcom neither of them really cared about.

Once upstairs, it seemed silly to Maura that they’d even pretended they wanted to watch TV, because they threw themselves back into sex as if it had been weeks since they’d been alone together. Jane had Maura beneath her again within minutes, fingers teasing between Maura’s legs, and before long she was inside Maura, watching her face as she slowly moved her fingers, increasing her pace so gradually that Maura almost had to beg for more, but instead was surprised by an orgasm roiling over her, strong as an undertow she hadn’t been able to see swelling beneath the surface, and Maura’s body moved like ocean waves, rhythmic and long and powerful, as Jane’s steady fingers prolonged the orgasm.

There was a lot of that for the rest of the evening. Exploration, interspersed with a few questions about what felt good, and once they had both climaxed, they would hold each other, catch their breath, talk a little, until their hands began wandering again, and they were tangled together once more.

It was nearly bedtime, and Maura had reluctantly suggested they should take showers as soon as she lay contented in Jane’s arms, head on Jane’s shoulder. They were both quiet for a while, Maura trying to will herself to get up and begin her nightly hygiene ritual, when Jane spoke, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure,” Maura replied easily. They hadn’t talked too much in depth that evening, because it turned out there was little to say. They had agreed that they were in a monogamous relationship, and that they had romantic feelings for each other (the sexual feelings were fairly self-evident), and beyond that, they would need to work out details as they arose.

“I wanted to ask...well. I guess really, I just wanted to say, it felt kind of unfair when you brought up the, uh, miscarriage…”

Maura frowned, “What are you talking about?” She wished she could see Jane’s face, but Jane’s fingers were stroking slowly through her hair, and Maura took that as a cue that she should stay where she was.

“I...when you said all those things, you know, the stuff I needed to hear. That was the only part that still kind of hurts.”

Maura shook her head against Jane’s chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” She hadn’t mentioned the miscarriage at all. She mentally reviewed the things she’d said, trying to see what Jane saw, and just as she had it, Jane spoke again.

“When you said you regretted thinking about raising a child with me.” Her voice sounded tight.

“ _Oh_ ,” Maura said, before Jane had even finished speaking. She raised her head, forcing Jane to drop her hand, because she needed to be able to see Jane to fully explain herself. “I’m so sorry. That wasn’t about the miscarriage at all, but of course, you couldn’t know that.”

“Then...what was it about?” Jane’s brow was still constricted, but her mouth looked softer.

“When we were at TJ’s graduation together, I was...I suppose I was fantasizing, about raising a child with you. It was a very separate fantasy from the reality that you and I lost our child.”

“Our child,” Jane repeated slowly. It wasn’t a revelation, but to Maura’s knowledge, it was the first time either of them had verbalized it. The impact of the phrase washed over them, and they were both quiet for a moment, gazing at each other with wistfulness, until Jane said, “What kind of fantasy was it?”

Maura shrugged, feeling a bit silly, “It wasn’t...terribly specific. I was simply beginning to feel that you and I were possibly heading toward a relationship, and I realized that I wanted the chance to try to coparent with you again. I...it’s strange to admit, because it’s not something I’ve ever wanted so specifically before, but I want a family with you. I want...domestic bliss.”

“Domestic bliss?” Jane was openly grinning now, but it wasn’t out of mockery.

“It sounds a lot sillier when I say it aloud.” Maura ducked her head a bit.

“No,” Jane protested quickly, “No, it’s not silly, I promise. I...guess I had just gotten used to the idea that I would probably never get married and have a family. But it’s still something I want, with the right person,” she smiled softly at Maura.

“Oh,” Maura said, “So then…” Even now, she didn’t want to assume anything.

“So then, yeah, let’s have a family. We were going to do it when we were just friends, and now it makes even more sense.”

“I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” Maura replied, and then the logical part of her brain began racing through all of the possibilities. “Of course, we shouldn’t rush into it,” she began to think aloud, “We need to see what our relationship looks like on its own before we add a child.”

Jane snorted, “Well, yeah. I wasn’t planning for either of us to get pregnant this weekend. Let me enjoy a good sex life for once before a baby screws it all up.” She smirked, eyes sparkling.

Maura laughed and lightly swatted Jane’s side, then leaned down to give Jane a long kiss, basking in the glow of possibility in their future.

They ended up going to their respective bathrooms not long afterwards to shower and get ready for bed, and by the time Maura came back into the bedroom after retrieving her cell phone from downstairs, Jane was already back under the covers. Jane watched Maura’s naked form as she approached her side of the bed and slid in, shifting automatically to cuddle up to Jane.

“You know, I normally sleep in a tank top and panties,” Jane said with a grin as Maura’s hands smoothed over her bare skin.

“I know, but you’re certainly not wearing that tonight.” Maura’s hand continued its motion, curiously smoothing over Jane’s hip to see if she was wearing anything at all.

“I figured I’d just keep with the night’s theme of nudity. But I might wear pajamas tomorrow.”

“I want you to sleep however you’re most comfortable,” Maura rested her head against Jane’s shoulder again. Jane held her close with a contented sigh.

They were beginning to doze when Jane stirred. “Wait, shouldn’t we lay so the problematic curves of our body are parallel or whatever?” she murmured.

“Parabolic,” Maura corrected, turning over so that Jane could spoon her.

“I knew that,” Jane chuckled. Maura heard that same contented sigh, this time in her hair, as Jane pressed her body closer, long arm snaking around Maura’s body, her hand gently cradling a breast.

They could have a future together, but for now, the present moment, with all its warmth and affection and peace, was quite enough for Maura.

* * *

 

Jane woke up to the sound of Maura’s alarm. She groaned, stirring, take stock of her surroundings. She had sprawled out over much of Maura’s bed during the night. “Really? It’s Saturday,” she grumbled into her pillow.

“Yes,” Maura replied quietly, stifling a yawn, “I sleep in an extra hour on Saturdays.”

Jane groaned again, flipping over and wriggling under the sheets until she was firmly on Maura’s side of the bed, where Maura was turning off her alarm. Jane pulled Maura to her, with both arms around her middle in an awkward spooning position.

Maura laughed lightly, and turned in Jane’s arms to curl up against her. Jane moved onto her back to hold Maura against her chest, her arms tight around her, and closed her eyes, fully prepared to drift off again. Maura seemed content to lay and breathe with Jane for a few minutes, until she finally spoke quietly, “I should get up.”

“Then get up,” Jane murmured, not loosening her hold.

Maura didn’t move, and in fact seemed to burrow closer to Jane. “I’m trying,” she finally spoke, “But I can’t with you holding me like this.”

“Sure you can,” Jane was grinning, “I’m not stopping you.”

This time, Maura did actually attempt to rise, and Jane held tighter. Laughing, Maura collapsed back against her, kissing her shoulder. Jane relaxed, closing her eyes again, and then Maura shot back up. Or tried to anyway, since Jane held her in place once more, but her reaction was slower, and Maura had more leverage, and she wriggled out of Jane’s grasp and was on top of her in a moment, on her knees and straddling one thigh. She gazed down at Jane triumphantly, who responded by sliding her hands up to gently caress Maura’s breasts.

Maura appeared wary, like she was resisting reacting to the sensation of Jane’s hands on her breasts, but in moments she was melting, her eyelids lowering in bliss, and Jane used the moment to knock Maura off balance, bringing her down onto her side, so that they faced each other, arms and legs tangled. Maura let out a surprised cry, and within moments they were rolling around, wrestling, Maura’s sheets twisting and pulling as they grappled, finding new ways to press their bodies together as they giggled breathlessly.

Finally, Maura was straddling her waist, hands on Jane’s shoulders, and Jane was ready to let her win and just watch her chest heaving as she caught her breath. But Maura just dipped her head to give Jane a kiss on the forehead and said, “Let me go brush my teeth before anything else happens.” And she climbed off and slid out of bed before Jane could try to stop her, though she really only would have done it to be stubborn at that point.

Jane lay for a moment, figuring she should probably do the same and willing herself to get out of Maura’s ridiculously comfortable bed, but even more important than brushing her teeth was coffee. The desire to get coffee started right away was incentive enough, and Jane slid out of bed and stopped by her bedroom to grab her robe before heading downstairs to start making coffee. She would need a cup soon or she’d get irritable.

The stream of coffee was just starting to cover the bottom of the carafe when she heard Maura’s voice from the stairs. “Jane? Are you down there?”

“Just starting the coffee,” Jane called, walking toward Maura’s voice to meet her. She was standing at the top of the stairs, nude, and Jane smirked up at her, letting her eyes scan the length of her body.

“Alright. Would you like me to start breakfast?” Maura shifted her weight, posing a bit for Jane’s wandering eye.

Jane debated for a moment, because it seemed the morning wrestling was about to turn into something more, but she was hungry. She seemed to do best starting her days with food and coffee. “Sure,” Jane began climbing the stairs. “I’ll be back down in a minute.”

Maura lingered long enough to give Jane a kiss on the cheek and let her run her hands over Maura’s nude body before Jane broke off to go brush her teeth in her own bathroom. At least once she did that, she’d be able to kiss Maura back.

When she got back downstairs, Maura had a variety of ingredients laid out on the counter and was standing at the sink, water running. She was wearing her short, silky robe and her hair was pulled back, clearly not styled, but Jane liked the way the ponytail exposed her neck. Maura could make even a casual ponytail look sexy, just by being.

Maura glanced at her as she entered the kitchen and greeted her with a smile, and Jane circled the counter, eyes still on the graceful slope of Maura’s neck as she bent over the sink. She came up behind Maura, hands settling on her waist, kissing Maura’s hairline and ear. Maura tilted her neck at the contact, making a pleased sound in her throat, and at her invitation, Jane kissed her way down Maura’s neck, tongue tracing along the apex of neck and shoulder. Maura moaned softly at the contact, leaning back into Jane, prompting Jane to lavish more attention with her mouth against that spot. Her hands slid around the silky robe, smoothing up to her breasts, and as gently as she could, she parted the robe, and one hand slipped inside to Maura’s breast, fingers seeking her nipple.

Maura was arching back now, her hand groping for the sink to turn off the water, head turned to catch Jane’s lips. Jane slowly rolled Maura’s nipple, already stiff from the attention of her hand, and heard Maura moan against her lips. Jane’s other hand, her left hand, was smoothing over Maura’s hips, catching on the robe’s belt, which was loosely tied and quickly becoming looser. Jane let her hand catch the belt, carefully unknotting it, until the robe fell open. Maura scarcely seemed to notice until Jane’s hand was on her bare thigh, and then she widened her stance, just slightly, and Jane followed her body’s request, fingers moving deftly, parting folds and seeking wetness.

It was almost easier this way, the muted rational part of Jane’s brain reflected as her fingers quickly oriented themselves and swiped teasingly past Maura’s clit. The angle was similar enough to touching herself that she was able to move confidently, starting with light, slow touches, until Maura’s mouth pulled away as she gasped, parting her legs a little more and pushing her body back against Jane. Jane began to focus the motion of her fingers, and the sensation made Maura’s head drop back against her shoulder and she moaned aloud, “Yes, right there, just like that,” until she trailed off in an incoherent groan. Jane maintained the pattern and pressure of her fingers over Maura’s clit as the other woman writhed against her, pushing forward against her hand, and Jane remembered her other hand, stilled on Maura’s breast, and she resumed her careful stimulation of Maura’s breast and nipple, burying her face against Maura’s shoulder. It was easier to keep track of the motion of her hands with her eyes closed, breathing in the scent of Maura’s skin, her lips vaguely pressing into Maura’s neck.

Before long, Maura’s moans were getting louder, and she turned her face to gasp into Jane’s hair, “I’m close, Jane, I’m so--” and Jane felt her body still, stiffen and then shudder, and she arched back with a jolt before hunching forward, hips jerking, gripping the countertop to keep her balance as she came, with Jane’s arms holding her steady as her legs grew weak.

Jane continued to hold her, one hand now on her ribs and the other on her hip, while Maura caught her breath and seemed better able to stand. She let out her breath in a heavy exhale and finally spoke softly, “I could get used to waking up with that.”

Jane chuckled near her ear. “Start setting your alarm earlier, I can make that happen,” she grinned, pressing light kisses against Maura’s pulse point.

Maura laughed and it turned into a sated groan as she let her weight fall back against Jane again. “How did I get so lucky?”

Jane laughed and squeezed her arms tighter. “You’re lucky? I’m the one who’s about to get a delicious home-cooked breakfast.”

“Right, breakfast,” Maura’s tone shifted, more businesslike, but still airy, and she straightened, seeming to give herself a mental shake. “I should get started.”

“You’re the best.” Jane pressed one final kiss to her neck and gave one final squeeze with her arms before disengaging reluctantly and heading to the coffee machine to pour herself a cup. Maura smoothed her hair and re-tied her robe, seeming unable to stop grinning, and then turned back on the water to finish washing the vegetables in the sink.

Jane sipped coffee and watched Maura work. She remember how Casey had wanted to take care of her in similar ways, how he had stepped into her home and tried to bring a form of domestic partnership to the space, and Jane remembered how much she had prickled, how it made her just want him to go away. Why was it so much easier with Maura? She hadn’t always made it easy for Maura to take care of her, either, but she had never wanted Maura to go away. She had never preferred their friendship at a distance the way she had her relationship with Casey.

She brushed the introspective thoughts aside as Maura plated their breakfast scrambles, full of vegetables and turkey bacon. Jane was already salivating. She decided it hardly mattered what went wrong with Casey, because what she had now was already so much better.

* * *

 

Typically, Maura’s Saturdays were productive. She usually ran errands, made sure to either go running or do some yoga or both, and made some progress with writing, assuming she didn’t have other obligations with BPD or the clinic. This Saturday she was fortuitously off, without any pressing household business to attend to, which meant she and Jane had the whole day to enjoy one another’s company.

They had ended up back upstairs after enjoying a lazy morning after breakfast, giving Jane time to finish several cups of coffee and look at various baseball numerical data and Maura time to do just enough work on her novel that the day wouldn’t feel completely unproductive. They were laughing and kissing their way to the bed when Maura stopped Jane with gentle pressure on her shoulder. “Wait.”

Jane pulled back, expression turning more serious, “Of course.”

“We need to make the bed,” Maura replied. If Jane was going to sleep in her bed, she would have to respect Maura’s rules.

Jane cast a bewildered look at the bed, which was disheveled from the activity of the night before and the morning wrestling, as well as from them both sleeping in it--especially Jane’s side, given her tendency to sprawl in the night. “Uh, why? We’re just about to get back in it.”

“Because…” Maura started, but Jane had a point. The way things looked, they were about to be tangled together on it within minutes. She sighed, “Okay, for now we can leave it. But I would appreciate it if you could help me make it in the mornings.”

“Oh. Okay,” Jane replied.

That was easy enough, Maura thought, and closed the distance between them.

They were, indeed, on the bed within moments, robes discarded, tangled together as they kissed. Jane pulled away enough to look at Maura and then spoke, “I want to try something,” she murmured, then immediately pressed her lips to Maura’s again.

They kissed for several long moments before Maura had the sense to reply. “What?” was all she managed to get out before kissing Jane again.

It was a very long moment before Jane spoke again, and this time, she barely moved away, just pulled her mouth back just enough to say, very quickly, “I wanna go down on you.”

Maura’s eagerness made her hold Jane even tighter at the words, kiss her even harder, as her head swam with Jane’s words. Nothing could have prepared her for just how sexy it was to hear Jane’s low, raspy voice declare that particular desire, and though Maura still wanted Jane’s body pressed against hers, she also desperately wanted Jane to follow through on her words. When she was able to speak again, she breathed, “Yes, please.”

Jane grinned against her lips, and began pressing kisses down her neck, slowly, mouth traveling down her chest to her breasts. Maura’s entire being was already piqued from arousal, and everything Jane’s mouth touched made pleasure spike all over her body, especially when Jane got to her nipples, already so sensitive the swirling of her tongue was almost too much. Her hand found Jane’s hair, and Jane seemed to read eagerness into her grip, and she groaned and began kissing her way down Maura’s stomach, moving faster now, with more purpose.

She kissed over Maura’s hipbones, and Maura began parting her thighs in anticipation. Jane settled in front of her, on her knees once she realized she was too long to stretch out on Maura’s bed at this angle, and kissed Maura’s thighs, hands smoothing over them until she was able to hook her arms around them. She settled further into position, staring between Maura’s legs, her expression anxious but eager, and she wet her lips in anticipation before pressing her mouth over Maura’s clit.

Maura had time to gasp in an anticipatory breath before she felt Jane’s tongue swirling over her, exploratory gestures, firm and slow. Her hand found Jane’s hair again, needing to touch her, at least some part of her, as her mouth worked. Jane’s eyes were closed, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, her hair wild and spilling over Maura’s thighs, save for the strands Maura grasped tightly in both hands. She gave Jane some time to get her bearings, simply enjoying the soft sensations of lips and tongue, before she began to consider the specifics of what she needed.

“Up a little,” she finally said softly, as Jane began to find focus with her movements. Jane complied with a soft moan, and Maura let the new sensation wash over her until she was forced to speak again. “A little left. Harder.” Another moan, Jane clearly eager to please as her tongue worked harder, and Maura basked in the sensation until…”Down, just a little,” she gasped out.

It continued as such for a few minutes, Maura gently rocking her hips against Jane’s mouth, trying to find the pattern that would work, gently redirecting Jane when necessary, but before long, Maura sighed, forced to confront the fact that this wasn’t quite working.

Jane noticed and lifted her head, swiping at her chin with the back of her hand, her eyes troubled. “Am I...doing it wrong?” she asked.

“No,” Maura replied, taking stock of her body and determining something. “It’s definitely not you. I think I just really need penetration right now.”

“Oh,” Jane’s eyes seemed to shine with the haze of passion, “I can like...try to do both.”

“I would love that, but later, because I think right now, I also need to be kissing you when I climax.”

“Oh,” Jane repeated, blinking, and then in a moment, she was scrambling up Maura’s body, kissing her deeply, her fingers slipping through wetness between Maura’s legs, pushing slowly inside until Maura groaned into the kiss.

Almost immediately, every burst of pleasure in Maura’s body was amplified, her hips were lifting, and she knew she had made the right request by the way she was already tightening around Jane’s fingers. She disengaged her mouth just enough to whimper, “Harder,” and heard Jane’s sharp intake of breath at her words, felt her fingers respond. In no time, she she had to free her mouth just to get out, “So fucking close, Jane,” and Jane groaned hearing the words, and kissed Maura harder, her fingers moving faster, deeper.

They were still kissing deeply when Maura began to climax, and her arm around Jane’s shoulder tightened, wanting to keep her there, keep kissing her. Maura’s hips rolled, her back arched, and everything in her mind was sharp pleasure, and she was engulfed with the presence of Jane, along her body, inside her, against her, kissing her, even if, Maura gradually realized, it wasn’t so much kissing anymore as her guttural moaning behind closed lips, unmoving against Jane’s mouth, until a jolt of pleasure forced Maura’s head to tip back and the moan escaped. Jane’s fingers kept moving, and it seemed to take a very long time for Maura’s body to settle, and Jane pressed kisses all over her neck and chest until Maura reached vaguely for her hand, patting at it, to signal she was fully sated. Jane slowed the motion of her fingers, carefully withdrawing them to Maura’s loud exhale.

Maura shivered in the aftermath of her orgasm, and Jane held her close. “Cold?” she asked.

“No,” Maura replied, groping for language, “Just...intense,” she breathed, curling closer to Jane. Jane shifted so that she was on her back, pulling Maura onto her shoulder in what was quickly becoming their favorite way to cuddle. When Maura had a better sense of her linguistic faculties, she spoke again, “That was exactly what I needed.”

Jane chuckled, “Glad I could help.” She leaned down to kiss Maura’s forehead, and Maura tipped her own face up to meet Jane’s lips, kissing her again, feeling the thrill of it like an electric current through her body.

They relaxed in each other’s arms for a long moment until Maura began sitting up, pressing her hand to Jane’s chest to keep her on her back. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

Jane looked unsettled for a split second, then her brow furrowed, “Uh...whatever you want?”

Maura half-smiled down at her, debating whether to push Jane, who was clearly unpracticed at discussing her needs in the bedroom. She stroked her hand down Jane’s arm, catching her fingers at the end, and said, “If you know what it is you need...just tell me.”

Seemingly in answer, Jane reached up and brought down next to her again, holding her, and long moments later finally spoke softly, “Just this, for now.”

Maura smiled as Jane stroked her hair. She couldn’t be sure if this was just what Jane wanted or if it was easier to ask for than sex, but either way, she wanted to respect Jane’s wishes. Jane shifted, moving Maura next to her and turning on her side so they were facing one another, and they retangled their limbs, and Jane moved closer to kiss her.

They kissed, and nothing further, for a long time.

Later that morning, Maura ended up having to consult with Kent over the phone. She paced naked in the bedroom for the first several minutes, until she shot an apologetic look at Jane, who was lounging naked in bed, scrolling through her phone, and pulled on her robe to head downstairs to look at something on the computer. Jane followed her down to brew more coffee, still glued to her phone. By the time Maura was finished over thirty minutes later, Jane was drinking coffee at the kitchen island and watching her with fondness in her eyes.

“You get them on the right track?” she asked.

“Yes,” Maura replied, closing her computer and walking over to join Jane at the kitchen island. She narrowed her eyes at Jane’s mug. “How much coffee have you had today?”

“Not enough,” Jane replied, taking a sip, eyes shining over the rim of her cup.

“Please remember to hydrate,” Maura reminded.

“Why? Are we going to _exercise_ more today?” Jane asked with a smirk.

“It seems to me there’s a high chance of that,” Maura replied, scanning the way Jane’s robe left all sorts of skin exposed. She stepped off her chair and next to Jane, hand on each armrest. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Maybe,” Jane murmured, meeting Maura’s eyes, smirk shifting into a grin.

The silence lingered for a moment, until Maura leaned down to kiss Jane. She decided to push her, just a little. She certainly didn’t want to deny Jane any pleasure, and she was eager to comply with whatever Jane wanted, but as with most things, Maura was reluctant to guess. “Do you want me to touch you?” she whispered in Jane’s ear.

“Yes,” Jane husked back, then, “Please.”

Maura almost laughed, and slid both hands into Jane’s robe to her breasts. “With my hands, or with my mouth?” she asked.

Jane stifled a whimper. “Mouth,” she got out, and began to stand up from her chair, perhaps realizing, as Maura was beginning to, that it would be very difficult for them to do much erotic in this position.

Maura felt Jane guide her over to Maura’s desk, leaning against it with Maura in front of her, kissing her, hands in her hair and running down the back of her robe. Jane was half-sitting on the desk, legs parting, pulling Maura closer. Maura pushed open her robe fully, hands trailing down over hips and thighs. She liked the idea of fucking Jane on her desk, and her fingers moved over inner thighs now, wisping past anything truly erogenous as she kissed Jane’s chest, exposed by her open robe. Jane seemed to settle more firmly on the desk, legs parted more, and Maura took the implicit invitation to let her fingers linger where she had previously only been teasing.

She felt Jane’s arousal on the tips of her fingers, her hot flesh, and plunged down, allowing her fingers to slip through it, and then circled in a lazy pattern upwards to find Jane’s clit, firm beneath her fingertips. Jane’s head tipped back, broadening her chest, which gave Maura’s mouth greater access to her breasts, and she dragged her tongue slowly across Jane’s sternum, lingering over the alluring freckle on her cleavage, then swirled her tongue around Jane’s nipple as her fingers deliberately imitated the pattern over Jane’s clit.

A sense of something almost like victory washed over her as Jane moaned aloud, a more full-throated sound than Maura had heard her make thus far. She hadn’t forgotten about Jane’s initial desire, though this was a detour they both seemed to be enjoying. She waited until Jane’s moan turned into small whimpers and lifted her mouth from where it had been slowly, torturously rolling Jane’s nipple between her lips and tongue. She raised her head to Jane’s hair, pausing a moment to inhale the scent of her chemical shampoo, and dammit if that artificial smell didn’t run a spike of arousal through Maura, making her hips squirm. She steadied herself and murmured in Jane’s ear, “I can’t perform cunnilingus on you if you’re up there. Get on the floor.”

There was a sharp inhale of breath from Jane, and Maura was almost worried that she’d pushed in some way that Jane didn’t like, but then Jane whimpered something affirmative and Maura moved her hand as Jane began sliding off the desk, lowering herself to the floor and catching Maura by the hand to bring her down with her.

They probably could have gone upstairs, Maura reflected, or even to the couch, but there was something particularly appealing about how desperate they both were for this to happen that they were just going to do it on the kitchen floor, logistics be damned. She shoved Jane’s robe aside and kissed Jane’s breasts again, pausing to run her tongue over the nipple she’d neglected before. Jane grabbed her hair, her eagerness propelling Maura down her body, kissing down Jane’s abdomen.

Until, abruptly, the buzzing of a cell phone. Jane gasped. “Shit. The pizza.”

“Pizza? What pizza?” Maura lifted her head, trying to orient the sound of the buzzing, but Jane was already pulling herself out from under Maura and grabbing for her cell phone on the kitchen counter.

“Hello?” To her credit, she shifted into an authoritative voice with ease. “Yeah, you have the right address, but it’s not the guest house, it’s the main house. Okay.” She hung up and began retying her robe. “I ordered lunch while you were on the phone. They usually take longer.”

Maura stood up, still a little dazed from the abrupt interruption. “I see. If it weren’t interrupting something, I’d say it was a good idea.”

“It’s still a good idea. It’s pizza!” Jane called over her shoulder as she moved toward the door to meet the pizza delivery driver.

For a moment, Maura was surprised at Jane’s bravado, answering the door in just a robe, but then, in true Jane Rizzoli fashion, Jane managed to pay for and receive the pizza without showing the driver any more than her head and arm around the edge of the door.

Once she’d fully completed the transaction, Maura said, “Well, I hope you got at least two vegetables.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane replied playfully, “I knew you’d say that. Here, look, mushrooms and olives. And your side has tomato and mine has sausage. I even got this salad!” she said, indicating the tiny plastic container of iceberg lettuce and a single tomato wedge that sat on top of the pizza box.

But it was enough, at least for the moment. “That is acceptable,” Maura smiled warmly. She was usually good at adjusting her expectations when situations changed, but she was having trouble moving past what had just almost happened on the kitchen floor. “I wasn’t finished with you yet, you know.”

Jane grinned, “I know. And I’m _very_ eager to get back to that. But after we eat.”

“Pizza does perform best at its maximum temperature,” Maura agreed, content to fully pause the encounter if Jane was. She went to the sink to wash her hands, and Jane was already reaching into the box she’d just put on the table and pulled out a slice. She took a bite, groaned in pleasure, and opened Maura’s fridge to pull out a beer.

And Maura loved her, so completely.

It was finally starting to feel less surreal, though there were still moments that put into sharp contrast the friendship as it existed before, and Maura was acutely aware in retrospect of just how difficult it had been to compartmentalize her attraction, and just how strenuously she had fought falling in love with Jane. The sensation of elation in those moments when she realized she didn’t have to deny anything anymore was so intense sometimes that tears pricked Maura’s eyes, her amygdala signaling the hypothalamus to trigger her lacrimal glands in the groundswell of emotion.

They ate lunch, and then Maura was content to lounge on the couch with her feet in Jane’s lap while Jane watched the sports channel and Maura checked in with Kent via text. She kept herself occupied, also aware that Jane had missed the previous evening’s game to have sex with her all night. She thought back to how many times they’d both climaxed the night before, and how she’d already climaxed twice today.

Jane was not only fulfilling every fantasy, she was surpassing them.

* * *

 

They watched an ESPN segment about the Sox, both about the game Jane had missed watching the night before and as a teaser to the game that evening. Maura was always going on about letting food digest before exercise, and Jane figured sex definitely qualified. After the program was over, she reached for the remote. “Want to watch the National Geographic channel or something now?”

Maura raised her eyebrows and lowered her phone. “It’s not at the top of my list of preferred activities.”

Shrugging, Jane replied, “I just didn’t know if you wanted to pick something too.”

“I’d much rather have sex,” Maura replied bluntly, beginning to rise from the couch.

Jane relaxed into a grin, “Good. Me too.” She hadn’t had an orgasm that morning by choice, happy to just explore Maura’s body. She was so used to going without sex for so much of her life that it was hard to get adjust to so much intimacy. Beginnings of relationships were usually hot but brief for her, as her life--mostly the former job she’d loved more than any of her boyfriends--never really gave her time to immerse herself in the beginning of a romance. It had also taken her all night to get comfortable with the fact that she and Maura were being intimate in spaces she associated with her family or their friendship. But even with that, yesterday had been so incredible that Jane was simply sated all morning, until Maura began touching her in the kitchen.

Once upstairs, it didn’t take long for their robes to fall to the floor and for them to fall into Maura’s bed together, bodies and mouths pressed together. Maura rolled Jane onto her back and straddled her leg, looking down at her. “Shall we pick up where we left off? Or do you need more foreplay?”

Jane searched for words. It was clear that talking in the bedroom was very important to Maura, and Jane could understand the appeal. She found it very sexy when Maura was explicit about what she wanted in bed. She just didn’t know how make it sound good when she was speaking. “Just, uh...start with my...breasts, and work your way down.”

She felt hotter after speaking, but only because it sounded so embarrassing. Maura didn’t seem to mind, though, and kissed her softly on the mouth, then lowered her head between Jane’s breasts, mouth pressing against each of them in turn. She lavished attention on one nipple with her mouth, while her fingers stroked the other, until Jane was writhing beneath her. Thankfully, she didn’t make Jane verbalize her need for stimulation further down her body, she took the hint from Jane’s hands grasping at her hair, the way she had in the kitchen. And this time when she kissed past Jane’s hip, they weren’t interrupted, and Maura’s mouth continued steadily on its trajectory until Jane felt the surge of arousal rising in her stomach and chest as she felt the tip of Maura’s tongue make its first exploratory stroke, from her entrance up to her clit.

Jane inhaled sharply at the sensation, and Maura hummed, a deeply satisfied tone. She shifted down the bed, pulling Jane’s hips to the side so she could fit on the bed while on her stomach, and Jane shifted up to the pillows at the head of the bed and angled her body diagonally to give Maura enough room.

Maura settled in, arms wrapped around Jane’s thighs, hands spread across her hip bones. Jane stared down her body at Maura, watching as her eyes closed and her mouth moved closer, but Jane’s eyes shut and her head fell back at the next warm sensation of Maura’s tongue.

Jane had been anticipating this for so long that pleasure was building rapidly. Everything felt so amazing that she scarcely noticed sounds were spilling out of her mouth entirely without her permission. One hand found Maura’s hair once again, the other grabbed the bedspread next to her, keeping her grounded. She felt one of Maura’s hands move off her hip, felt as Maura’s body shifted at the corner of the mattress, but the motion of her lips and tongue didn’t falter. And then fingers, slowly pushing inside, and Jane felt them, buried to Maura’s knuckles, making her feel so delightfully full, and every sensation crystallized in the realization that she was getting very close.

Willing herself to try to speak more during sex, Jane managed to get out the word “close,” as she felt her heel digging into the mattress, giving her leverage to lift her hips toward Maura’s face. She heard and felt an enthusiastic moan against her delicate flesh, as Maura’s tongue swiped faster, firmer, her fingers plunged steadily and deeply, and Jane’s hand twisted the bedspread, her heel jutted down more sharply into the mattress, then she was coming, hips rolling against Maura’s mouth, groaning until she was out of breath, pleasure coursing through her until she was gasping for air, certain she couldn’t come any longer, and she patted Maura’s hair so she would lift her head. One last flick of her tongue that had Jane clenching hard around her fingers and shuddering wildly, and Maura’s fingers slid out, and she reached for Jane.

Huddled in Maura’s arms while she recovered, Jane waited for rational thought to return, but all she felt was overwhelming emotion. It was so complex she could barely make sense of it, but so intense that she felt tears welling up. It was something like relief and joy and nakedness all wrapped up into one, like the satisfaction of solving a case existing at the same time as the fear of failing to solve it. It didn’t make sense, but it overcame her, and she hastily pressed her fingers to her eyes to discreetly wipe away the tears.

“Are you...are you okay?” Maura asked.

“Yeah,” Jane said in a thick voice.

“You’re crying,” Maura said, baffled and concerned.

“I’m not,” Jane insisted, “Just...it was intense.”

Maura seemed to understand, and held Jane closer to her chest. She let Jane try to contain herself for a while, then spoke, “I just wish I had let myself consider this earlier. I wish I could’ve known how great it would be.”

“Me, too,” Jane said quietly, “I really wish I’d let myself, too.” But how could she have known how amazing she and Maura would be? How could she have even guessed how well they would fit together?

As Maura began to shift away from Jane, she reluctantly suggested, “We should considering taking showers before your mother gets home.”

Jane glanced at the clock on Maura’s nightstand. “We’ve got time. I have something I want to finish.”

“What’s that?” Maura asked, lifting up onto her elbow.

“You,” Jane smirked. It was cheesy, but it made Maura laugh, and then Jane closed the distance between them. Her intense emotions were abating, and the best way to leave them behind, she knew, was action. “I want to try again,” she said softly, kissing her face.

“Try-- _oh_. You mean cunnilingus?”

Only Maura could make that word sound weirdly sexy. “Yeah. That.”

“Yes. I would like that,” Maura said, voice already dropping with desire.

“Good. Lie back,” Jane instructed.

This time, when Jane settled between Maura’s legs, it already seemed to be better. Maura was more vocal, gasping and moaning at the contact, her verbal feedback much less about reorienting Jane and more about encouraging her. “Right there, oh fuck, _harder_ , yes.”

A muffled moan escaped her throat as she moved her tongue faster, circling over Maura’s clit more firmly. Maura’s legs were lifting, thighs closing in on Jane’s head. Jane used both hands to hold them steady, to keep them from fully closing on her, as Maura’s hips began to buck.

Words were flying out of Maura’s mouth again, “Fuck, Jane, I’m close, fuck, fuck fuck,” and then it was incoherence, as Maura’s hips surged up against Jane’s mouth, bumping her lip against her teeth, but Jane steadied her hips with her hands, kept her tongue moving, and moaned along with Maura as her body jolted and shuddered through her orgasm.

She held Maura, once they’d reoriented themselves so they were next to each other again, and this time it was Maura snuggled against her chest. Maura was laughing softly, still rebuilding her vocabulary after her orgasm, murmuring words like “amazing,” and “so good.”

Then Jane was chuckling, too. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear so much as you have in the past twenty-four hours.”

Maura voice was still awed. “Well, sometimes there are situations in life that require profanity, such as the realization of a long-time fantasy.”

Jane’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, long-time?”

Maura lifted herself onto her elbow. “I mean, I didn’t _really_ let myself consider it for quite awhile, but...the feelings were there. I’d tell myself I was just attracted to you physically, but...it was always more than that.”

Feeling a sort of stillness come over her, Jane asked, “Always?”

“Possibly a bit of a hyperbole, but...I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, Jane,” Maura confessed, “I wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner.”

“I...yeah,” Jane said quietly. “I know what you mean.” She was trying to think of what else to say about this new information that was rattling around in her brain like a pinball, when her phone buzzed on her nightstand. She sighed, and rolled away from Maura to check it. “It’s Ma. Twenty minute ETA. Guess we’d better shower.” She rolled back over to kiss Maura once more, and then the two of them each headed off to their own showers.

It wasn’t until Jane was under the spray that she realized she felt...gloomy. That was the best word for it. Somewhere between sad and bad. It was incongruous with the elation she had felt during the rest of the day, and she tried to make sense of it.

She didn’t think it had to do with her mother coming back home. The fact that her mother was the only person she had talked to about her new relationship with Maura was weirdly reassuring, like her knowing made it more real somehow. She suspected that Angela wasn’t the only one who knew anymore, but she was the only one that Jane was certain of. Besides, Jane was able to admit to herself that she often liked when mother was home, even if a piece of her stubborn pride insisted it was just so she could know she was safe.

No, it wasn’t that, and she didn’t think it was because the family was coming over tomorrow, even though that did mean less alone time with Maura. Of course, she wanted more, but she also wanted to watch baseball with her brothers, and she knew there would be some time for canoodling in the evening. She didn’t even think it was about the prospect of telling her family. She assumed Angela already had, anyway, and she didn’t have any fear that anyone would be upset, and besides, Maura was already family.

It was something to do with Maura, though, because that pang was still there, even through the excitement of them falling in love, indirectly prodding at Jane like a piece of evidence she couldn’t quite pin down the significance of. It was something like longing, too, but not excited longing. Sad longing.

It had seemed innocuous enough when Maura had said it, but Jane was beginning to realize that the revelation that Maura had feelings for her for a long time wasn’t making her feel flattered, like she thought maybe it should, but instead it just made her feel sad. Sad that Maura felt she couldn’t tell her. Sad that they hadn’t figured this out sooner.

Most of all, she thought about the time they could have spent together that they had lost. And felt even worse.

Lost in her thoughts, Jane was moving through her shower routine slowly, and when she finally got out and dressed for the first time that day, she thought she already heard her mother’s laughter downstairs. She made her way down to the kitchen to find Maura, wearing jeans and a three-quarter sleeved buttoned blouse, looking like she did any other day at home, and Angela, looking a little rumpled from travel but happy, chatting in the kitchen. They both looked up at her arrival.

“Janie,” Angela held out her arms.

“Ma, you were barely gone a day,” Jane rolled her eyes fondly but accepted the hug.

“Nice to know you didn’t miss me,” Angela groused, squeezing Jane until she squirmed to be released. It was basically involuntary at this point.

“Glad you made it back okay,” Jane said as they pulled away. She was glad her mother was home, why was it so hard to show it sometimes?

“Angela was just telling me about her trip,” Maura said.

“Oh, yes! So the place was so charming, and rustic, you know, a real country feel,” Angela began describing the bed and breakfast she stayed in.

Truthfully, it sounded boring to Jane, like sleeping at someone’s grandmother’s house in a town with nothing to do but walk nature trails. Maura seemed delighted by the descriptions Angela offered of her experience. Jane tried to imagine Maura dragging her out to a place like that. She would probably lose her mind. Unless they had sex the whole time. She glanced at her mother and abruptly wondered if that’s what she and Ron had actually done the whole time, and had to look away so no one would notice her nauseated expression.

Jane found a way to excuse herself from the conversation as Angela and Maura started discussing dinner options and turned on the Red Sox game, knowing they’d be less likely to bother her if baseball was on TV. But even though she was watching the game and even intermittently yelling at the players, mostly, she was thinking about Maura, and how being with her made her feel so good, and she lamented that it didn’t happen sooner. She’d always loved Maura, too, and that’s what made it so much harder, because she knew what Maura meant. Knowing how easy it was to fall for Maura, Jane was pretty sure that this could have been awakened in her, earlier in her life, if she’d even known to look for it instead of searching for a man to play the role of partner in her life. But it hadn’t, because Maura hadn’t trusted her enough to think she could tell her. And as much as it hurt to realize that, after all they’d been through, Maura still hadn’t felt she could trust her with her heart, what hurt more was the fact it that was only because Jane had never given her a reason to think she should.

She just couldn’t shake that heaviness in her heart, in spite of everything happy around her. She quietly mourned the time lost as she brooded in front of the baseball game, drowning out the happy chatter of Maura and Angela as they worked. It didn’t help that she didn’t want to talk to either of them about what she was feeling. She and Maura had already had a huge fight two days before that had almost ruined everything, and Jane didn’t want to make Maura feel bad for revealing her truth. And she had definitely reached her quota for emotional conversations with her Ma for at least the next month. That left her alone with her silent grief as she struggled to stay invested in the baseball game, which, like everything else joyful around her that she wasn’t fully present for, was going quite well for the Sox.

So she sat with her feelings, hoping they would resolve themselves. Maura and her mother joined her in front of the television for dinner, and she half-conversed with them while watching the game, and when they were finished, she sat with her arm around Maura, lightly cuddling as they finished watching the Red Sox win. She was still quieter than usual, but neither her girlfriend or her mother seemed to think much of it.

“Well, that’s enough excitement for me for tonight,” Angela yawned when the game was over. “I’m going to bed.”

“See you tomorrow,” Maura replied.

“Night, Ma.”

At least brooding all evening meant Jane could mostly push her thoughts aside, now that she was alone with Maura. The last thing she wanted to do was unintentionally punish Maura for being honest with her. This was Jane’s issue to process. So she was at least able to be present with Maura while they made out on the couch for a little awhile, but it was getting late, and before too long, they were heading upstairs to go to bed.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face in her own bathroom, Jane entered Maura’s room to find Maura waiting for her, standing next to the bed, nude. Jane smirked, wanting to put her hands on Maura’s enticing bare breasts, but Maura crossed her arms to halt Jane’s impulse. “We have to make the bed,” she said in her softly authoritative way.

Jane frowned. “Why? We’re just about to get back in it.”

It had worked perfectly well that morning, but now Maura just fixed Jane with that particular look she got when she thought Jane was being ridiculous. “Yes. And it needs to be made before we get back in it.”

Jane figured it wouldn’t be too bad, and they’d just straighten the covers on the thing and be done with it, so she acquiesced. But she couldn’t quite keep her mouth shut when Maura began stripping the bed, pulling the bedspread and sheet off and resting them on the chest at the foot of her bed, and stacking the plethora of pillows on her armchair. Jane watched, so bewildered that it didn’t even occur to her to lend a hand. “Really?”

“ _Yes_ , really,” Maura replied, an edge of irritation to her voice. “Please straighten the fitted sheet so it’s tight on the corners on your side.”

Jane complied, tugging at it, watching the way Maura pulled and smoothed and mimicking her movements. “Is this, uh...something we’ll have to do every night?”

“Likely so,” Maura replied, “Unless we do it in the morning, which I prefer. And sometimes we may be able to get away with just straightening the top covers.” She pulled the sheet up and shook it out over the bed, letting it fall into place until Jane was able to grab it and help straighten it on her side.

“I guess I just never saw the purpose of making the bed,” Jane admitted as they smoothed the sheet into place, though her eyes were more on the motion of Maura’s breasts as she worked, “It was just one of those things I stopped doing as soon as I had my own place.”

“Well, if you want to sleep in mine, you’ll help me make it,” Maura said firmly. “If it’s not made, I can’t sleep, because all I can feel is all the wrinkles. How much sheet is on your side?”

“I dunno, uh...this?” Jane held up her side of the sheet, and Maura tugged it over a little, then was tossing the bedspread onto the bed for them to smooth into place.

They slid into bed moments later, and Jane felt a little guilty. “Sorry for uh...dismissing your need for a made bed. It’s just not something I’m used to.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Maura chuckled. She snuggled close to Jane, wrapping her arms around her. “I love your practicality,” she continued, “And it’s exactly what I need to hear sometimes. But not making the bed isn’t practical. At least not to me.”

Jane smiled, pulling Maura closer. “Well, if you’re naked every time we do it, I’ll probably be okay with it.”

Maura laughed and kissed her, “There’s a high chance of that. Just as long as you pay attention to the task and not just to my breasts.”

“Can’t make any promises. They’re too awesome,” was Jane’s response as she reached a hand over to gently palm one breast.

They kissed a bit more and Maura allowed her to fondle her breasts for a minute or so, but they were both tired, and soon Jane was spooning her, and they were drifting off to sleep.

Jane found that she normally slept very well in Maura’s bed, but tonight, she woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and when she got back into bed, she just couldn’t get back to sleep. She lay awake, watching Maura breathing peacefully on her side of the bed, unable to shake that same sadness, that she could have been sleeping next to her for years now.

What would her life have been like, if she and Maura had fallen in love sooner? Would she have even had to go through the heartbreak of losing Casey? The pain of her miscarriage? Would they have children already, and Jane would have never even been in the position of an unplanned pregnancy? Would she have even moved to DC?

Jane eventually fell back into a restless sleep, and slept poorly, plagued by her unstoppable thoughts of wistful guilt and sorrow.

When Maura’s alarm sounded, Jane was already half-awake, having only managed to doze off and on for the past hour or so. She did her best to hide her exhaustion, something she had a lot of practice at, and had a good morning with Maura, considering her inner turmoil. They went for a run, which did at least temporarily make Jane forget, as she was busy enough alternately playfully griping to Maura about the exercise or challenging her to a race. Then came showers, breakfast and coffee, and as they sat at the kitchen island giggling and poking at each other, Angela came in from the courtyard.

“Good morning, girls,” she greeted, heading for the coffee machine.

Jane realized she didn’t even feel the need to stop her touching and teasing of Maura, which surprised her. A part of her thought it would end up being a Very Big Deal that she and Maura were together, but Angela’s nonchalance was reassuring: it was not. It simply was.

Soon, they were falling into the routine of family day, as Angela began to prepare the lasagna and Maura gave Jane a variety of tasks to clean and straighten up the (in Jane’s opinion, already perfectly presentable) living room and dining room. Then, Jane went out to buy beer once the liquor stores were open.

The family began to arrive after lunchtime, and the first to show up were Frankie and Nina.

While at the store, Jane had allowed the clerk to talk her into a couple of different microbrews, including one that Frankie had mentioned to her recently, so she was eager to present her brother with a chilled bottle as soon as he was in the door.

“I haven’t tried it yet,” Jane said, “so it better not be nasty.” The warning was mostly a tease, considering that Jane Rizzoli rarely encountered a lager, ale, stout, or pilsner she truly detested.

“Oh, it’s so good.” Frankie held up his own bottle and clinked it against Jane’s.

It was pretty good, though Jane tried to stay as stone faced as possible, the way a big sister does when she wants to give her younger brother a hard time. Finally, she conceded. “Yeah, it’s good.”

Maura casually pulled the bottle away from Jane to have a taste of her own. “It’s very aromatic,” she said, before sipping. “A little hoppy, but not bitter...light in body but full in flavor.” She took another drink. “Oh, a very nice crisp finish!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Boozy Gourmet,” said Jane.

Maura protested, “I am not _boozy_.” She moved to pull away, but Jane caught her arm and tugged her back.

“You’re the one trying to run away with my beer.” They’d been alone for the bulk of the weekend and it was natural to wrap her arms around Maura and press a kiss to her cheek, close enough to her lips for Jane to consider attempting a second one.

But then Frankie flailed his arms. “Whoa, hey, whoa, what’s happening?”

Jane froze, considering that maybe her mother had, in fact, accomplished the impossible task of keeping her mouth shut. “Ma didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Frankie shot a look to Angela, who just shrugged.

“Maura and I are...you know. A thing.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real.”

Frankie looked between the two of the, from Jane to Maura and back to Jane. Then he nearly flung himself at Jane to wrap her in a hug. “That’s so great. I’m glad it’s finally happened.”

“Thanks, Frankie.” Jane returned the hug, then pulled back. “Wait, what do you mean finally?”

“I think what he means,” began Nina, “is that you two are made for each other.” She, too, approached to hug the both of them.

“Does Tommy know?” Frankie asked.

“I haven’t said anything to him.”

“Great. Can I tell him?” But then he was dodging and oven mitt that Angela had flung in his direction.

“Leave your sister alone,” scolded Angela. “And you,” she said, shaking a finger at Jane, “stop acting like you two haven’t been making moon eyes at each other forever.”

“I wasn’t--” Jane knew she hadn’t been actively pursuing Maura, but was her mother maybe a little bit right about this? Was this part of why she was feeling so lousy? Had she been so out of touch with herself that she’d failed to recognize her own attraction to Maura?

Jane’s half-hearted protestations seemed to fall on deaf ears, and Maura attempted to smooth things over with a “It was a bit more complicated than that,” which made both Frankie and Angela scoff, though it at least steered them away from their subtle gloating that they, too, knew how Jane was feeling before she did.

When things seemed to be settling down as they waited on everyone else to arrive, Jane excused herself, muttering to Maura, “I need to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jane replied, and with another swift kiss to Maura’s cheek, she headed upstairs, ignoring the gleeful chatter from Frankie and Nina at the action.

Once in her bedroom, she closed her door, and stood for a moment with her cell phone in her hand, steeling herself, and then dialed Dr. Hendrix’s number.

The therapist answered after only a few rings. “Dr. Hendrix.”

“Uh, yeah, hi, this is Jane, uh, Jane Rizzoli.” She’d never called Dr. Hendrix’s phone before, and hadn’t actually been sure she would pick up, considering it was Sunday.

“Of course. Hello, Jane. Is everything alright?” Dr. Hendrix sounded like she always did, collected and professional.

“I...yeah, but...no. It’s been...a crazy weekend.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Well...it happened. With Maura, I mean, and I guess...I mean, I know that we’re in a relationship now.”

Dr. Hendrix sounded surprised, “Well, it certainly has been quite a weekend, then. Congratulations. How are you feeling about it?”

“Good. Great.” Jane paused, trying to figure out how to even begin talking about what was troubling her, and blurted, “I hate this.”

Sounding taken aback, Dr. Hendrix replied, “You...hate being in a relationship with Maura?”

“No! No, that’s...that’s everything. That’s perfect. I hate…” she sighed, “I hate that I even need to talk to you right now, because everything is going so well, but like...I can’t stop being sad about this one thing.” She took a breath, sorting out her thoughts.

“What’s making you sad?” Dr. Hendrix prompted gently.

The silence stretched for just a moment as Jane tried to swallow the lump in her throat before speaking. “Last night,” she began, “Maura told me that like...even though she tried to deny it to herself, that she had feelings for me for a long time. And it just...makes me sad.”

She knew there was more to say, but the lump in her throat was blocking any more words. Dr. Hendrix waited for a moment, then spoke again in the same mild tone, “Why does that make you sad?”

“Because,” Jane started, blinking hard to clear her vision, “Because...all that means is, we could have been together for years now, if only she had told me what was going on with her. If only she had trusted me. So, I’m sad that she felt she couldn’t tell me, and mad at myself because I know I made her think there was never a chance, and I feel bad because we lost so much time, and it’s all because I just...could never see what was right in front of me.” She paused to take a shaky breath, then continued. “And I’m mad because everyone around me seems to think this was just waiting to happen, like it was _obvious_ to them, and I was the last one to even know, and it could have made my life a hell of a lot easier if someone just would’ve told me…”

“That’s a lot of guilt and regret to be carrying around about the timeline of a relationship.”

It was weird to hear it put so succinctly, but Dr. Hendrix’s assessment felt pretty accurate. “Yeah. And I hate that I’m calling you about it. I’m mad that like...Maura was right, all those years she told me I needed to talk to someone. I always thought I could just push things aside, and that worked for me, but I couldn’t talk to anybody else about this and I couldn’t let it go. So I hate that I need this.”

“I’ll try not to take it personally,” Dr. Hendrix said wryly, making Jane laugh weakly. “What do you think would have happened if you and Maura had gotten together years ago?”

“I don’t know. I would have been happier. I wouldn’t have had to deal with the whole thing with my breakup with Casey and my miscarriage. Maybe we would have kids already. I never would have moved to DC.”

“And you regret all of these things?” Dr. Hendrix asked.

That gave Jane pause, because regret wasn’t a word she used often, if at all. After all, if she didn’t regret shooting a criminal through her own body in order to protect her family or jumping off a bridge after an innocent man, what was the point of regretting a failed relationship, or the uncontrollable experience of losing a pregnancy? “I...I mean, no, not those things specifically. I just regret all the things Maura and I missed out on, that we could have had during those years. And I guess it would be nice to have not had to experience those things.”

“It’s difficult to predict how one change in your past would affect your present.”

Jane knew this. She and Maura had discussed it before, “No, yeah, you’re right,” she said, “I get that, I know that. I just...I just wish we hadn’t wasted so much time…”

“Ten years of friendship was a waste?”

“Of course not.” Jane struggled to wrap her head around how to express her anger and sadness, but to her surprise, the emotions were draining away, like sand through her fingers. She sighed heavily, “I just...knowing how amazing everything is, and how much I love her...I just wish we could’ve figured it out sooner. I think, if she’d told me, I would have been able to see what I do now. I think I could have loved her at any time.”

“I seem to recall you were pretty resistant to the idea, at least at first.”

“Yeah…” Jane admitted slowly, thinking back to how unthinkable it had been until recently.

“You said Maura denied her feelings even to herself for a long time, yes?” Dr. Hendrix waited for Jane’ grunt of affirmation, then continued, “Maybe she wasn’t ready until now.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’d like to think I would’ve been, at any time, but...maybe I wasn’t ready until now either,” Jane considered the possibility as she wiped at her eyes. How easily she might have been able to dismiss Maura’s feelings because she only dated men. Something else occured her her, and she thought aloud, “And maybe...maybe I really did need to try with Casey, to know it couldn’t work. I might still wonder, if he and I hadn’t made sure. And that wouldn’t be fair to Maura.”

“You’ve told me before that you believe everything happens for a reason,” Dr. Hendrix stated mildly.

“Yeah. That’s true, I do.” She digested this, thought about all the pieces that had fallen into place to bring them together. Being pushed by her therapist to consider how she felt about women, or to work through why she felt it was wrong to be attracted to Maura. How Jane had to leave Boston to know it was where she wanted to stay, had to return Casey’s ring to truly know she could never be with him. It was one thing to grieve what was possible, and it was another to consider that without everything bringing them together at just this moment, that circumstance might have diverted them, and there was the equal possibility of _never_ for them. “I guess I just wish I hadn’t like...had my head so far up my ass.”

“Can you forgive Maura, for not being ready to tell you until now?”

“Of course.” That wasn’t even a question.

“Then work on forgiving yourself. You weren’t ready. Learning to access your emotions is hard work, but you’re doing the work. You’re talking to me about your feelings, and that isn’t nothing. That’s commendable.”

Jane scoffed reflexively, but Dr. Hendrix was right. And, she realized, she was feeling better, now that she’d had some guidance in processing her overwhelming emotion. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, and perhaps riding on that high and feeling more trust and connection with Dr. Hendrix than ever, Jane spoke before she could reconsider her words. “My next session. I’m not going to want to talk about it, but,” she started. It was easier to do this on the phone, somehow, knowing her therapist couldn’t see her expression, knowing it was a conversation she could delay. She finished her request, “I want you to ask me about Alice Sands.”

If she ever wanted to do police work again, she would have to confront the specter of her nemesis that still living inside her. She knew now, had known for awhile, that pushing it aside wasn’t working. That was how she had almost pulled her gun on an innocent boy. Or most certainly would have, if she’d been carrying one.

“You have my word,” Dr. Hendrix replied.

Jane hung up feeling lighter, and took a moment to steady herself, and try to make sure it wasn’t obvious that she’d been teary. When she headed downstairs a few minutes later, she immediately sought out Maura.

And Maura was radiant, the most beautiful woman in the world in some designer scoop neck t-shirt that probably cost way too much, laughing with Jane’s family, and Jane strode over to her and slid her hands onto Maura’s waist.

“Everything okay?” Maura asked her, with warm eyes and an affectionate smile.

“Everything’s great,” Jane answered, and leaned down to kiss her.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, am I seeing this?” Until she’d heard his voice, Jane had been so focused on Maura that she hadn’t even registered that Tommy had arrived. She turned to see him standing at the refrigerator with his mouth hanging open. “Did that just...?” he trailed off in bewilderment.

From the couch, Frankie gleefully called, “Oh, yeah, Tommy, I’ve got something to tell you! You’re not going to believe what finally happened.”

Jane met Maura’s affectionate smile with one of her own. “Finally” had taken a long time, but Jane revelled in the certainty that, right now, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
> 
> (And big thanks to PrettyLittlePoutyMouth for writing the bulk of this chapter. She's a champion.)


	19. Chapter 19

For Jane, the family gathering that Sunday had given her the opportunity to tell almost everyone important to her that she and Maura were in a relationship. And though that had been true for Maura, too, there were a few additional people she wanted to inform about her change in relationship status.

One of those people was Hope, and Maura considered her clinic hours early in the week the perfect opportunity to tell her.

Maura wasn’t really nervous about it, in part because she didn’t really view it as coming out. She had been living openly as a queer woman for the past year and though she and Hope had never had a specific conversation about her sexuality, Maura was certain that Hope was aware that she dated women as well as men. But this was a conversation about Maura being in a serious relationship, and Maura had been in so few of those in her adult life that the prospect of discussing that felt strange. Her private life had so often been just that, private.

She was emboldened by the fact that she’d discussed her new relationship with Kent and he was unsurprised and happy for her. His response had basically been, “So you guys figured your relationship out, then, eh?” But Kent was her peer and her friend, and though Hope was both of those things as well, there was the complication of their biological bond.

In most cases, Maura and Hope interacted professionally but warmly. They saw each other mostly at the clinic, though they didn’t always work during the same time, and every once in awhile, they would have dinner, sometimes with Cailin accompanying them. They were both reserved people, and though they were getting better at interacting as friends, it was still strange at times. They would see one another in the other’s expression, their kinship exaggerated by the way they could finish one another’s sentences. It was impossible to put aside the fact that they shared DNA.

But in a way, Maura realized this was what wanted from Hope, at least in this case. A friend, but also perhaps some maternal energy. Maura’s closest maternal figure, Angela, already knew what was going on and Constance was so far away that if Maura wanted to speak to someone in person, it would have to be Hope.

Maura arrived early, and found Hope in her office. She looked up from her computer and smiled warmly, shifting her whole body to face Maura across her desk. “Maura, hello, how are you?”

“Very well, thank you,” Maura replied, taking a seat across from her, “And you?”

“Just about ready to go home and have a glass of Cabernet,” Hope laughed.

“I know the feeling,” Maura smiled, “It’s certainly my favorite part of the day.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Hope replied, gazing fondly at Maura. “How was your weekend?”

Pleased at the natural segue to the topic she wanted to discuss, Maura replied, “It was great, and I actually have some exciting news. I’m seeing someone, and it’s serious.”

“Really?” Hope leaned forward, eyes alight and eager, “Oh, do tell. How did you meet?”

“We’ve known each other a long time,” Maura began, watching Hope’s face for any kind of reaction. Hope tilted her head curiously, expression still eager, and Maura made the reveal, “It’s Jane. I’m seeing Jane.” She said it twice, simply because the words themselves were so delicious.

Hope’s grin broadened and she sat back in her chair, her expression knowing and very satisfied, “Ooh, now that is wonderful news.” Almost immediately, though, she was leaning forward again, “Do you know, when I first met you, I actually thought the two of you were already a couple? She was just so protective of you.”

Maura felt her face flush a little at the guilty pleasure of it. “Well, we’ve functioned very like a couple for much of our friendship. That’s why it’s so easy for me to say that it’s a serious relationship after only a weekend together. Normally, I believe such premature commitments are ill-advised, but…” she shrugged, “It’s Jane.”

“Well, it certainly makes sense to me,” Hope replied, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Maura replied, delighted to have shared the news with someone else who was happy for them. “And this might sound crazy, but, we’ve discussed having children.”

At that, Hope appeared slightly more surprised. “Oh!” As it processed, she continued, “That’s really wonderful.” But there was a change in tone that Maura detected and she was uncertain about what it meant.

“It’s actually not the first time. When Jane was pregnant, we ultimately agreed to co-parent the child.” Maura fell quiet. The miscarriage was something she never expected to respond emotionally to, yet it still upset her.

“I think you two would be great parents.” There was a lull before Hope said, “I really do think so. If I seem concerned, it’s because I’m just mentally calculating the risks of pregnancy after forty.”

Maura sighed in relief. “Oh, I’ve done the same, several times.”

“So you are considering pregnancy? Would it be you carrying the child?” Hope’s expression was still mildly concerned, but curious.

“Yes. Well, I think so, anyway. It’s never really interested me that much in the past, but lately I’ve begun to realize that it interests me very much. It’s partly thanks to you, I think. Working with living people has made me consider myself someone who can nurture, as opposed to someone only comfortable with the dead.” Maura paused, considering. “I...do have to discuss it more with Jane, of course, but...do you have any advice? You have much more experience with this than I do, both medically and personally,” Maura laughed.

Hope nodded, “Certainly. To start with, I’d like to refer you to a reproductive endocrinologist I know, one of the best in the city. She’ll be able to advise you better than I could on the particulars of your likelihood of carrying a child to term. And as for anything else, I will be here for you, whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Maura reached out and clasped Hope’s hand, feeling the connection to her biological mother. Her thoughts roamed as she tried to ascertain what she needed from Hope at that moment. To her surprise, the question she did ask was unprompted by her ruminations, “Do you think it’s selfish?”

“To want children?” Hope asked in surprise.

“Well, yes, but specifically...to want my own biological children, especially given...you know, everything, with the circumstances of my own birth.”

Hope straightened, but didn’t release Maura’s hand. It was still an uncomfortable topic for them both, still full of unresolved emotion. She spoke in a measured tone, “I think, to a degree, it’s quite natural. The biological imperative of any species is to reproduce.”

“Yes, of course. But as a social species, we also must be aware of how many children there already are who need loving homes.”

“Yes,” Hope agreed, falling silent.

Maura pulled her hand away as the silence stretched, but not because she was upset, simply because she was still sorting her thoughts. “Being adopted...I don’t know. It never really bothered me, aside from always wondering who my biological parents were. Who _you_ were. I imagine it’s normal to wonder about that. I always knew I was adopted, and if I had always known my origins, maybe that would’ve helped.” She paused again. Hope was watching her with compassionate eyes, just as much a bystander in the feelings of displacement in Maura’s young life. It hadn’t been Hope’s decision to never know her until she was an adult; that decision had been taken from her just as much as from Maura. “Ultimately, I am satisfied with my childhood,” Maura stated then. “My parents did their best, and gave me everything I wanted. I wouldn’t be the same person if they hadn’t raised me, and I like who I am. But knowing my own experience, I’m reluctant to take that on with a child of my own. I...wouldn’t be opposed to it, but I would rather give birth myself or through a surrogate. And that _is_ selfish.” Even talking it out, Maura couldn’t come to any other conclusion than this, and it was painful.

“Maura,” Hope reached for her hands once again, and with some reluctance due to her aversion to being touched when she was upset, Maura allowed Hope to grasp her hands. “Reproductive decisions are _very_ personal, and you don’t have to apologize for or explain why you want what you want. Not everyone can be a good parent to every child. And I think we sometimes choose to parent in ways that are the opposite of how we were raised for good reasons, even if those reasons don’t seem to make sense to other people.” She paused, smiled a little. “I think about that sometimes with you, and how sometimes I’m happy that I didn’t raise you. Not only because I wasn’t ready to be a mother, but because what if you strove to be so different from me that you hadn’t become a doctor yourself? Some things just work out for the best in the end, even if they’re painful. And however you and Jane ultimately become parents, I know you’ll be fantastic.”

Maura nodded, sucking in a deep breath to keep composed. “Yes. You’re right. Thank you.”

“This is a really big and exciting step. And if you ever need to talk about any of it, I am happy to listen,” Hope reassured her.

To Maura, it felt like a breakthrough, finally something special she and Hope shared. When she had been dating people other than Jane, Angela had been her go-to maternal figure, but now, it seemed more appropriate to talk to Hope, and Maura was happy to finally have found a point of intimacy they could share.

But Hope had one more question. “Does Constance know?”

“About…” Maura began to clarify the question, when she realized that it didn’t matter, “Actually, no. About any of it.” Hope’s expression shifted, something between concern and pride, and Maura was quick to explain, “We don’t really...talk about things like this.”

“You don’t discuss your personal life, you mean?”

“Yes. Mostly because there’s been so little to tell.”

“Maybe,” Hope began carefully, “This is the catalyst to start.”

Hope was probably right, but the idea made Maura feel inexplicably nervous. “I’ll consider it. Thank you for everything.”

“I’ll send you the contact information for the reproductive endocrinologist.” Sensing Maura’s shift in mood, Hope closed the conversation, turning back toward her computer.

Maura left Hope’s office to prepare for her rotation at the clinic, and though the idea of talking to Constance was on her mind, she was mostly excited to take the next step forward in her plan to have children with Jane.

* * *

 

By the time therapy rolled around on Thursday, Jane was honestly looking forward to her summer quarter starting back up again the following week. She and Maura were still enjoying their free time together with daily orgasms, but Maura was a busy woman, and if Jane didn’t have to watch TJ, she had some trouble filling her days with activities that didn’t eventually bore her. They were beginning to settle into new routines, and now that her family knew they were together, the excitement of that had died down as well.

But Maura was still in the forefront of her mind as she went to therapy, because Maura was never far from her thoughts. And as Jane started to think about how she and Dr. Hendrix hadn’t yet discussed her new relationship face to face, she started to try to anticipate her line of questioning. And that brought to mind something else.

Soon after Tommy had found out about her new relationship and they had finished explaining it to TJ (whose response was to shrug and state with childlike earnestness, “Aunt Jane and Aunt Maura have always loved each other the best,”), in a private moment, Tommy had asked her, “So, are you gay now, or…?”

“No,” Jane had scoffed, belatedly suppressing the defensiveness that had reared automatically.

Tommy seemed to take her answer in stride, and didn’t press. But as Jane headed into Dr. Hendrix’s office, she realized the exchange still bothered her.

“So,” Dr. Hendrix stated when they had settled comfortably onto their usual seats, “You requested that I ask you about Alice Sands.”

“Oh...oh, right.” Everything about her week had been so suffused with _Maura_ that Jane had half-forgotten about it, which was good, because it meant it hadn’t been troubling her. “Yeah, we should talk about that,” she agreed.

But Dr. Hendrix must have sensed something in her tone, and she prompted, “If something else is on your mind, we can start there.”

“Yeah,” Jane decided, pleased for the opportunity to delay what she knew would be a difficult conversation, “I just...things with Maura are really _really_ good,” she started.

Dr. Hendrix smiled genuinely, “That’s excellent. I’m so glad to hear that.”

“It really is,” Jane replied, “And it’s just...I’ve never had this experience before.” She ruminated for a moment while Dr. Hendrix watched expectantly, and Jane finally said, “When I was dating men, and things felt good, I was always kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I knew it couldn’t last. But I don’t feel like that now.”

“Does that concern you?” asked Dr. Hendrix.

Jane shook her head, “No, not really. But like, is it weird that I’m comparing Maura to the men I dated in my head?”

“I think that’s completely normal,” Dr. Hendrix assured.

Jane nodded, “I figured. I mean, how else would I know that she’s literally better than anyone else I’ve dated in like, every way?” Dr. Hendrix laughed, and Jane allowed herself a grin. She continued, “I guess just, the only thing is like...Maura’s a woman.”

“Yes,” Dr. Hendrix agreed, prompting Jane to continue along this line of thought.

“It just is...weird and surprising that, you know, she could be so much better for me when I’ve always wanted to be with men. And...I don’t really know what I’m supposed to call myself, like, she’s just one woman, and, it’s only really ever been men before, and like...maybe she’s my one exception?”

“If that feels true to you, that’s legitimate,” Dr. Hendrix replied.

“Yeah,” Jane replied uncertainly. “I guess I’m just not sure if it feels true or not. I just...I don’t think ‘straight’ is right anymore, but I don’t know what is.”

“Well, you’re certainly not obligated to label yourself right now. And eschewing labels altogether is an equally valid choice.”

“Yeah,” Jane decided, “I guess it doesn’t really matter. Maybe I’m just Maura-sexual or something.” That didn’t feel right either, but it was the best she had at the moment. She sighed. “I, uh. I guess we can talk about Alice Sands now.” She felt her stomach sink in apprehension of the topic.

“Alright,” Dr. Hendrix readjusted in her seat, and refocused on Jane. “Tell me about her.”

Jane took a breath. “I...you know about Hoyt. I thought he was going to be the worst of the worst, you know, the biggest, baddest serial killer of my career. But she...I didn’t even see her coming. And she...I mean, I had to kill both of them, to defend myself, to protect people, but she’s the one that really still scares me. She...she got to me. She got to Maura. She was so good she made me not trust myself.” Her eyes blurred, and she dropped her head to stare at the floor as she blinked. “She’s the reason I don’t know if I can be a cop anymore,” she croaked, voice breaking as she admitted the thing she had been carrying deep in her heart for so long, the thing that had made her run, the thing that had made her try to be someone else.

“Tell me what happened with her,” Dr. Hendrix spoke soothingly.

And Jane did, staring at the floor and fighting tears, so that by the end of the session, she had described every terrible detail. When their time ended, everything still hurt, but there was the mild relief of having said it all, and the reassurance of her therapist that this was, truly, something traumatic.

Jane left still a bit angry with herself for needing to talk about it and especially for crying, but with a strange optimistic sense that it would actually help her. And that scared her almost as much as Alice Sands herself.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Saturday morning that Maura decided to call Constance. She had the house to herself, as Jane had gone on campus to buy her books, and it was early enough that the time difference would be convenient.

Constance answered, sounding cheerful but with a touch of uncertainty, “Hello, darling. Is everything alright?”

“Hello, Mother. Yes, I’m quite well. How are you?”

“Oh, we’re having a lovely evening in since we’re both at home. Your father’s here somewhere, would you like to speak with him?”

“In a minute,” Maura replied. “I want to talk to you first. Are you working on anything at the moment?”

This was the easy part of the conversation. Though they didn’t speak on the phone often, Maura liked hearing from Constance and listening to her talk about her art. She relaxed into the exchange. It was a safe topic, one they were both well versed in, and Maura admired her mother’s artistic sensibilities.

And once they had finished chatting about her latest project, Constance asked, “Anything new with you?”

“Yes, actually,” Maura replied, “I’ve started seeing someone, and it’s serious.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Constance gushed, “What’s his name?”

Maura paused as she realized she might be coming out to Constance in this moment. She honestly couldn’t remember if, when she had been openly bisexual in her youth, if she’d ever had a specific conversation about it with her mother (she certainly hadn’t with her father, as they really hadn’t been speaking at that time). Though, she wasn’t particularly worried, either. Her parents, due to their work in academic and artistic fields, had many queer friends and colleagues of all kinds. She elected to keep it simple and direct. “Jane,” she replied.

There was a pause, and then Constance laughed, “Well, I should have known better than to assume. Especially when I honestly wondered for a time if the two of you were together.”

Constance could be oddly matter-of-fact even in her typical sense of decorum. Maura supposed it was something she had learned to emulate from her adoptive mother. “Really?” she asked, curious by the fact that both her birth mother and her adoptive mother had seen the same thing between herself and Jane. “When?”

“Oh, for awhile, I suppose, until you told me she had moved away. I presumed that the two of you were simply discreet, and that you had chosen not to discuss your sexuality with me.”

There was that frankness again. Maura realized Constance had been hurt by what she perceived as the degree to which Maura excluded her from her life, and she felt guilty with the knowledge that she had actually done so, though not out of spite. “I’m sorry to have made you feel that I didn’t want you to know that part of my life. In all honesty, it’s mostly because there was never really anything to tell.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize,” Constance replied, sounding sincere. “I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at knowing how to have these kinds of conversations, anyway, much less with my own child. I know I’m not always an easy person for you to confide in, and that is much more my doing than yours.”

It was sometimes both refreshing and painful to hear Constance speak of her own shortcomings as a mother, but Maura attempted to remember that they had talked about trying to be more honest with each other. “I appreciate you saying so,” she replied quietly. “And if I hid anything from you, it’s really because I never wanted to disappoint you.”

“Oh, darling, you’ve never disappointed me in the least. I’m so happy for you and Jane. I’ve approved of her as your partner for a long time, believe me,” she laughed.

“Thank you,” Maura replied, pleased to have come out on the other side of a fraught conversation with civility intact. “That really does mean a lot.”

And after Maura hung up after a much simpler conversation with her father, who in spite of their long estrangement was oddly easier to talk to, she felt profoundly relieved to have had this kind of breakthrough with her mother. They had been trying for years to bridge the gulf between them, ever since Constance had been hit by a car while protecting Maura and had then admitted to keeping Maura’s identity from her for her whole life. And though this conversation hadn’t directly addressed any of that, it was an improvement over the basic perfunctory exchanges they’d had every once in awhile since.

It was also, in some ways, the most sincere apology Maura could hope for from her mother, better than the words themselves.

* * *

 

When Jane’s summer session started up again, she wondered why she had looked forward to it, because the reality of her class and homework schedule meant less time with Maura. Still, they were prepared for this, and had talked about how they would ensure they were spending enough time together, but with the relationship barely a week old, it was impossible to be fully satisfied with the time they had.

They were adults and they were professional, however, so outwardly Maura was working and taking time to herself to write regularly and Jane was attending class and keeping up with her reading and going to therapy, but inwardly, Jane’s thoughts were frequently diverting to Maura, and fantasizing about their next sexual encounter.

The first week of Jane’s classes, they really didn’t have time for sex until Thursday evening, when Jane was so spent from talking more about Alice Sands in therapy and then attending classes in the afternoon that she simply couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. Maura understood, and Jane simply enjoyed the way she felt safe snuggling up to Maura at night, able to protect her and knowing she would have her back.

And by the next day, she wondered how she could have turned down an opportunity to at least go down on Maura, which had quickly become one of her favorite things. They began texting that day, infrequent messages that gradually grew more and more suggestive, so that by the time they both made it home, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and raced upstairs to Maura’s bedroom.

The excitement and anticipation built into a frenetic crash, as clothes scattered the room and naked flesh pressed together. Jane’s fingers were slipping between Maura’s legs almost the moment her panties were off, and they pushed and prodded each other to the bed until they lay next to each other, on their sides and kissing, with Maura’s leg slung over Jane’s hip and just enough space between them for Jane’s fingers to push inside. She pumped her fingers vigorously, awash in the sensation of being inside Maura, loving the motion of her hips, the groans against her lips, until Maura was shuddering, body pulling closer, and crying out against Jane’s neck as she came.

Jane was so enamored with the satisfaction of making Maura come that she almost forgot about herself, but Maura didn’t, and keeping with the frantic pace of the encounter, she resurfaced quickly after her orgasm, her own fingers seeking Jane. Jane moved, then, climbing onto Maura’s lap to ride her fingers, needing motion, needing to feel like they might never stop. And Maura watched her, eyes alight with passion, little words of encouragement falling from her lips, and something about the way Maura husked out, “You’re so fucking sexy,” pushed Jane over the edge, hips jolting, feeling Maura’s fingers plunge deep, and Jane stuttered wordless moans until she slumped bonelessly into Maura, who bore her down onto the bed where they recovered together, Jane resting her face just next to Maura’s soft breast. She kissed what her lips could reach of it as she waited for her verbal skills to recover.

Finally, Jane mumbled against Maura’s skin, “I never knew how much I needed sex until I was having it with you.”

Maura chuckled and it turned into a hum of agreement, “This is certainly part new relationship energy and also, I think, _years_ of tension we’re still burning through.”

Jane chuckled, too, “Yeah, that sounds about right.” It was probably more Maura’s truth than Jane’s, the part about years of tension, but Jane wasn’t entirely sure anymore. It was hard to look back on moments of their friendship and remember how it felt to look at Maura and her body and to not understand how amazing it would be to touch her, and Jane’s thoughts were so jumbled she had no idea if these were impulses she’d ignored at the time or memories simply obscured by the lens of her current feelings.

“Well, other details of sexual compatibility will still shake out as time passes, but we’re certainly quite compatible when it comes to vanilla sex, I’d say,” Maura’s voice was warm and amused, and Jane felt a kiss press onto the top of her head.

Jane let out a little laughing sound to signal her agreement, but mostly, she was just realizing that there was apparently more to sex for Maura than what they’d been doing. She was well aware that people had kinks, of course, but in her mind, sleeping with women was in the same taboo category as kink, so it hadn’t occurred to her that anything they were doing could be simply called _vanilla_.

Maura didn’t pursue the subject further, at least not then, and Jane was too exhausted by her return to classes for thoughts of what non-vanilla sex might be to Maura to keep her awake that night.

The next afternoon, Maura left the house to run some errands and Jane took advantage of her solitude to get started on some of her school work for the next week. By the time Maura made it home, Jane had reached a natural break in her reading and her attention capacity had started to wane, anyway, so she headed outside to meet her.

She joined Maura outside to bring in bags from the car, and the two of them unloaded groceries in the kitchen. It was a space in the house that Jane still thought of as mostly Maura’s, particularly because Maura had such a specific system for organizing her refrigerator and pantry so that Jane resigned herself to unpacking bags and handing her things. It didn’t really bother Jane, though, because she’d never really known how to properly enjoy having a kitchen by herself, and this one was full of happy memories of her family and of Maura, and therefore Jane’s favorite.

As they worked, Maura asked almost casually, “Have you ever had a conversation with a partner about kink?”

Jane paused in her unloading of the cloth grocery bag. “Uhh, no, not really.” Other than the times she was getting to know a guy and he’d freaked her out with something early on, but that wasn’t really a conversation. Even the more adventurous things she’d done in bed had been less about conversation and more about going with the flow in the heat of the moment.

Maura nodded as if this didn’t surprise her. “It’s important to consider when it comes to overall sexual compatibility. We both demonstrate an ability and a desire to meet one anothers’ vanilla needs in bed, but I think it’s worth having a conversation about frequency of sexual desire and also variety.”

“Okay,” Jane said slowly, realizing they were possibly going to have this conversation over household chores.

“To help facilitate this discussion,” Maura stuck her head into the fridge, pausing for a moment and then continued speaking as she turned back around, “I’ve found a website that allows us both to take a quiz about what we are interested in sexually and then we can compare results.”

“You do know I already have enough homework, right?” Jane asked with a smirk.

Maura shot her a heated glance over her shoulder. “Yes, but this homework potentially results in more orgasms.”

“That’s a good point,” Jane admitted, grinning as she dug into the grocery bag. She thought about what kinds of questions she might be asked, and realized something. “What if I don’t know the answers?”

Maura looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, even just having sex with you is so new, so, what if I don’t even know what I want to try?”

“Just be as honest as you can,” Maura replied, “I haven’t begun taking the quiz yet so I don’t know what kinds of answers are permitted, but I would assume that being unsure is a perfectly reasonable response. And then if you’re unsure about something that I would like to do together, we can discuss it further.”

“Makes sense,” Jane muttered. At least parts of this conversation were easier since she and Maura didn’t have to be completely face to face, focused as they were on their tasks.

The topic seemed to be set aside for the moment as they finished unloading groceries, and then Jane reluctantly headed back to the couch to study while Maura sat nearby at her desk and typed away on her novel. They worked, mostly in silence, for about an hour or so, with Jane’s mind wandering every so often and her gaze turning to Maura, whose focus would break just long enough to give Jane a soft smile. Jane didn’t think she’d ever been so comfortable sitting in silence with anyone she had dated. There had always been some sort of pressure to _perform_ in some way, to make sure she was doing something to keep their attention.

While they were both absorbed in their work, they were interrupted by the doorbell. Jane was startled, but Maura perked up happily and went to answer it. Jane hovered nearby, wanting to stay a bit out of sight if only because she was in sweatpants and a tank top, and watched as Maura accepted a small assortment of packages, then turned back around, beaming. “I ordered some things,” she explained, “Want to come upstairs while I try them on?”

“Sure,” Jane replied, happy to have a break from studying. This kind of thing wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary during the course of their friendship, though it didn’t happen often since Jane would usually groan about how it was too similar to shopping with her mother. And really, she’d never actually thought her input about Maura’s clothes was very useful. She’d always thought Maura looked great in whatever she put on, even before she knew she was attracted to her.

“And bring my laptop,” Maura requested over her shoulder.

“Why?” Jane asked as she picked it up, but Maura was already heading for the stairs, and didn’t answer.

When Jane made it to Maura’s bedroom, she had laid out the boxes she’d received and was taking an ornate letter opener to the first one. Jane sat on the bed with the computer next to her and watched as Maura opened the first box and pulled out some long, vibrant teal garment, then held it up to herself, turning to show Jane the dress.

Jane nodded, “Am I supposed to be taking notes, or…?” she gestured to the computer next to her.

“Oh, no,” Maura replied, sounding amused, “While we were downstairs, I took the sexual compatibility quiz, so if you want, you can take it and we can compare results when I’m finished with my clothes.” She laid the dress down on the bed and began to take off the skirt she was wearing.

“Right, okay,” Jane replied, her eyes lingering on Maura’s legs. There was an element of this she hadn’t anticipated, now that Maura didn’t have a reason to change clothes in her closet anymore. She forced her gaze away as Maura began to pull her blouse over her head and pulled Maura’s computer onto her lap.

“Here,” Maura strolled over in her undergarments and heels and leaned over Jane’s lap to navigate the browser to the quiz, and Jane watched her walk back toward the foot of the bed and begin to shimmy into the new dress before shifting her focus to the quiz.

The first few questions were pretty easy. _Longer foreplay sessions? Sensual massage?_ Yes and yes. _Sensual massage for Maura?_ Yeah, if she wanted one, Jane was totally down. _Take pictures of each other?_ Hmm.

“What do you think?” Maura interrupted Jane’s musings as she turned slowly in the dress she had tried on.

Jane gave her an appraising eye. The dress fit her well, accentuating her curves, and color was striking. “I like it,” she decided, eyes lingering on the hint of cleavage.

“Hmm,” Maura considered Jane’s response as she consulted the mirror on her closet door. She appeared to make a decision, and began taking off the dress.

Jane turned back to the quiz after Maura slid the dress down her body with an alluring wiggle that Jane took a second to admire. The next several questions were about taking pictures of and filming each other, and more and more explicitly. Jane’s initial impulse was a strong “no,” but then she saw the option of _If my partner is interested_ once again.

What if Maura wanted sexy pictures taken? Would Jane be willing to do that for her? She supposed the act itself wasn’t that undesirable, it was the reality that they were both professional women and neither of them would want any photos of that nature to surface beyond the bedroom. Or, Jane assumed that Maura wouldn’t want that to happen. She was far less self-conscious about nudity than Jane. Maybe it wouldn’t bother her.

Jane realized that she was going to have to consider Maura’s interest for _every_ question, because stuff she was just completely not interested in on her own, she might still want to do for Maura if it would make her happy.

She cast her gaze across the room, where Maura was back down to her underthings and heels and was digging the next article of clothing out. Fine. So maybe she’d take pictures. But nothing explicit.

 _Oh_. The next question was about Maura stripping or giving Jane a lapdance. Jane glanced once again at her nearly naked girlfriend. Oh, _hell yes_.

Jane was starting to get the hang of it. She checked off a few things she would do to make Maura happy, and then there were questions about watching each other masturbate. Definite _Yes_ for watching Maura, because now that Jane thought about it, she knew she needed it. And, hesitantly, she put _Yes_ for Maura watching her. It wasn’t something Jane had really done in front of someone before, but the thought of Maura watching, wanting to watch her, made her feel warm and incredibly eager.

Jane moved on to the next question, and she grunted in distaste as she read it.

Across the room, Maura had only put on a black skirt and looked up from the package she was looking through. “What is it?”

“Why would I want to shave you?” Jane asked, confused and a little uncomfortable.

“Some people are into that,” Maura replied, turning her attention back to the box.

“ _You’re_ not, are you?”

Maura fixed her with a look, with a touch of exasperation. “Jane, it is against quiz protocol to discuss the fantasies before answering. Your answer is about _your_ limits and boundaries, not mine.”

Jane stared at her for a moment, and then definitively clicked _No_. Maybe there were things she wasn’t willing to do for Maura, and this one was just weird. Besides, the likelihood that Maura would want that seemed slim.

Porn questions. Not Jane’s favorite thing, but if Maura wanted her to watch some, sure, that might be okay. Then, questions about being more vocal during sex, and dirty talk. Jane clicked _Yes_ on all of them, knowing Maura enjoyed it, and knowing it was something she wanted to get better at because she was starting to realize she enjoyed it, too. Even Maura swearing during sex was starting to become a turn-on by itself. She hesitated over calling each other degrading things, however, but ultimately decided she could do it if Maura wanted it.

“I think I could create a better outfit with each of these pieces, but what do you think?” Maura interrupted.

Jane looked up to see she was now wearing a dark red blouse with her skirt. They looked pretty basic to Jane, like things that didn’t need to be pricey and designer, though they definitely looked good on Maura. “Not bad,” she settled with.

“You think?” Maura asked, heading to her mirror and plucking uncertainly at the blouse.

“Yeah, you look good,” Jane assured.

“Hmm,” Maura said again. It was her response so often to Jane’s fashion opinions that Jane wasn’t sure whether Maura took them into account at all.

She returned to the quiz. Period sex was a _No_. She wasn’t sure how Maura felt, and could imagine Maura telling her it was perfectly natural and not at all gross, but Jane saw enough blood in her life already. They could dry hump or something, it was fine.

 _Maura wearing stockings and high heels for Jane_.

Jane smirked, looking up to see Maura back down to underpants and heels. Yeah, that could be kinda hot. At least until they got in the way.

Maura noticed her looking. “What?” she asked, mouth settling into a faint smirk.

“Nothing,” Jane smirked back, clicking _Yes_.

Jane moved through more basic questions, deciding rough sex could be fun with Maura. She wasn’t entirely sure what it would look like, but the aggressively passionate impulse was there. Face-sitting. That sounded awesome, too.

She was definitely opening up here, she thought. There were things she was willing to try, things she definitely wanted to try. She was starting to get excited, wondering what Maura had put, feeling fairly certain they would overlap a lot.

She moved on to the next section, about sex toys. Jane hadn’t thought much about that, those were mostly masturbatory aids for her, not something she used with a partner. But, sure, maybe? If Maura wanted to?

The BDSM section was next. Jane was pretty sure she would end up hitting _No_ on all of them. She made another involuntary noise at the first few questions.

“What’s wrong?” asked Maura, who was trying on a pair of gray slacks, her heels now removed.

“Who would want to be punched in the face during sex?”

“Some people are into that,” was Maura’s rote mild reply.

“ _Why_?” Jane didn’t usually hear herself sound so scandalized, but seriously, what the hell?

“Masochism, degradation, submission, among other reasons,” Maura recited as she turned in the slacks in front of the mirror, “What do you think?”

Jane blinked and refocused, “Uh, they look nice.” There wasn’t much to say about what appeared to be work-appropriate pants.

“I’m not so sure about them,” Maura replied, turning around to examine her rear.

“ _That_ looks great,” Jane told her.

Maura laughed, and Jane returned to the quiz where she firmly selected _No._ The next question was on restraints and Jane made another noise in her throat. “Was that about the slacks, or the quiz?” Maura asked.

“Uh, it was about restraints,” Jane replied as she clicked _No_. “I mean, having been restrained by criminals, I just can’t understand it. Just seems wrong to want that.” She refused to dwell on it, but just remembering the helplessness of being restrained brought a deep throb of anxiety to her guts like a suckerpunch.

“Let’s not kink-shame,” Maura chided gently. “There’s a world of difference between being restrained by someone who means you harm and someone you trust completely. Also, only one of those scenarios involve consent, and consent can make even the most disturbing-appearing sexual encounter a fulfilling and loving experience.”

Jane tapped her fingers as she regarded Maura shrewdly. Maura wasn’t looking at her, busy as she was with the clothes, as she had _still_ more to try on, but something about the way she spoke made Jane wonder if this was something Maura was interested in. On the other hand, she couldn’t really imagine it would be, given that Maura had been kidnapped and handcuffed to a pipe. She decided to stick with her initial automatic _No_. It just seemed too emotionally fraught for them both, and if it was something Maura was interested in, maybe they could renegotiate down the line.

The next questions were about hair-pulling, which surprised Jane, as it was something she already knew she enjoyed and she hadn’t really considered it any sort of BDSM practice. She and Maura hadn’t done much of it aside from some reactionary tugs during oral sex, and Maura had seemed to enjoy it, so Jane figured it was definitely something they should try more of.

There was a series of questions about hurting each other, from spanking to using canes, that Jane just moved quickly through in a long stream of _No_ s. Hair-pulling was one thing, as that hardly counted as painful to Jane, but she really didn’t want to hurt Maura otherwise, ever.

Jane was considering the next few questions about them being submissive for each other when Maura interrupted, “Now, I don’t love pairing this blazer with a white top, but what do you think?”

Jane looked at her. Dark gray blazer, white top, underwear. She tried to focus on the clothes Maura was actually wearing, reflecting this was more fun now that Maura wasn’t pulling from her closet to show Jane whole outfits when she tried on new clothes. Jane grunted thoughtfully. “Blazer is pretty cool. Top is okay.”

“I actually quite like the top, just not with this,” Maura replied, moving toward the mirror.

Jane watched Maura as she thought about the quiz. She supposed being submissive for each other might be okay. Seemed like something that kind of happened naturally during encounters anyway, she might like to play with it a little if Maura wanted to.

The rest of the BDSM section had Jane jabbing _No_ repeatedly as it mostly laid out different ways of being slaves or being used for and by each other that Jane simply could not see any appeal in. Her only comment as she sat shaking her head was “I’m not even going to ask you why anyone would want to be roleplay raped,” which just made Maura chuckle.

The next section was about anal play, and Jane’s initial impulse was to just keep checking that _No_ box, but...she glanced at Maura, who was putting on a matching skirt and blazer this time, and decided that she should maybe throw Maura a bone here. Maybe Maura wasn’t into this at all, but if she was...Jane thought maybe she could handle using her finger...there.

“Okay, and this?” Maura asked, now wearing the same white top with the skirt and blazer.

Jane actually really liked it. She always liked Maura in a skirt, especially now that she could ogle her amazing legs, and thought the blazer gave her a sort of attractive authority. “You look great,” she nodded to emphasize her point.

“Hmm, really?” Maura asked, sounding more eager than skeptical as she consulted the mirror.

“Yes, really!” Jane insisted, and saw Maura smiling a little as she examined her reflection. Satisfied that she had actually gotten Maura to listen to her for once, Jane turned back to the quiz, moving through the next section fairly rapidly. It was about group sex and public sex, and most of it really didn’t interest Jane at all, but there were a few scenarios, like having sex in a car or a workplace setting, or going to a strip club, that Jane thought she might do if Maura really wanted to.

She was into the final section as Maura sorted through and folded the clothes she had ordered, apparently finished trying them on. The final section was easy, and involved miscellaneous fetishes, most of which simply struck Jane as _gross_. No feet, no mud, no weird chemicals, and _definitely_ no golden showers. Nope, no way, not even for Maura.

Finally she sighed, and set the computer aside. “Guess I’m done,” she reported.

“Great!” Maura replied, “I’m almost done deciding what I’m going to keep,” she glanced up at Jane, who stared nervously back, and seemed to immediately shift tasks, “But let’s look at the results first.” She padded over to the bed in her bare feet and underthings and climbed up to sit next to Jane.

They sat next to each other, both staring at the screen as it scrolled down through their results together. Considering how much Jane knew she’d said _No_ to, there was still a lot to see, and quite a few things at least one of them had given a definitive _Yes_ , and many more that one or both were happy to do if the other wanted to. Jane was relieved and excited to see that many of the things she had said _Yes_ to, Maura had said _Yes_ as well. It also turned out that Maura definitely wanted to use toys and engage in hair-pulling, and, Jane was a bit nervous to see, definitely wanted the one thing in the “anal play” section that Jane thought she might be able to do. The public sex section was merely a smattering of things they both would be willing to do if the other really wanted to, and of course, the final section Jane had only said _No_ to didn’t appear at all.

Jane found relief as she saw everything she’d said _Yes_ to had a positive response from Maura, and turned to find Maura grinning as she looked over some of their answers again. She looked up, meeting Jane’s eye, “Well,” she said, “I think we have a lot to look forward to.”

* * *

 

In most ways, it had been very easy to adjust to the change in her relationship with Jane, however, even though they already lived together, the _way_ they lived together had changed. Maura had worried, early on, about how having Jane in her space might affect her, but it wasn’t so much Jane’s presence that threw her, it was how it changed her routines.

No, Jane’s presence made Maura happy. She loved waking up next to Jane, she loved the husk of her voice first thing in the morning, even if it was usually indistinct grumbling. She loved that the time they spent together in common areas of the house had an amplified intimacy now, loved that Jane had so quickly grown comfortable with being intimate in those parts of the house, even if it was just cuddling on the couch in the evenings or interrupting Maura’s cooking with kisses. She loved Jane joining her in her bed in the evenings, sometimes with a shower-freshness to her that was especially fragrant and sexy, as unselfconscious in her barely dressed state as Maura had ever seen. She loved falling asleep knowing Jane was next to her, or frequently, curled against her, loved how they would wake up in the night and realign their bodies to spoon each other.

But in spite of all of that, there was a niggling sense in the back of Maura’s mind that warred with her joy and affection, wanting her to follow along on the routines she had set for her life that kept it efficient and organized.

Every morning, Maura would want to get up with her alarm, as she always did, but Jane’s arms would reach for her, or wrap tighter, and Maura would struggle with the desire to stay in bed just a little longer. Sometimes she would, and would later curse herself for running behind on her obligations for the day. She would linger over meals with Jane, just happy to be in her company, and have to rush elsewhere in her day, or end up with less time to spend on her writing than she wanted. And it was hard to want to be productive in the evenings when she could be tucked under Jane’s arm on the couch with a glass of wine. Even bedtime had changed. Maura sometimes liked to take the time to meditate or read before actually settling down in bed, but with she and Jane talking and trading kisses as they wound down, she fell behind on some of her mindfulness routines and her medical journals.

Of course, Jane’s presence eventually began to change Maura’s space as well, even if most of Jane’s personal belongings remained in what was still technically Jane’s bedroom. It started with the way Maura began to notice that the covers of her bed were slowly shifting until they were heavy on her side.

“How are you making the bed when you get out of it?” Maura asked one morning when they were both out of bed. Maura had begun automatically straightening her side of the bed while Jane half-heartedly pulled up her covers.

“Oh, uh, like this,” Jane said, continuing her motions and tugging vaguely at the top cover.

Maura felt her expression shift. “That’s not making the bed.”

Jane frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You’re not evening out of the covers. Come look, do you see how much more I have on my side?”

Jane circled around and stared, “I guess,” she grunted.

“So please take the cover on your side and pull it over so that they match, making sure that it covers your sheet.”

Still frowning in some mix of concentration and displeasure, Jane attempted to even out the cover, but it seemed to Maura that it was barely moving.

“Here,” she came over to show Jane how it was supposed to be, and Jane stepped aside to watch as Maura straightened it out. “Please help me with this, especially when you’re the second one out of bed?”

“I’ll try,” Jane grumbled, “But it doesn’t look all that different to me.”

Maura sighed, uncertain if this was Jane’s stubbornness or a genuine inability to recognize what a made bed should look like. “We’ll work on it,” she said.

Jane didn’t really respond, and hurried to her own bedroom to get dressed for their run. Maura was disappointed that she seemed to have driven her away, but keeping the bed made was important to her, and she knew Jane knew that.

She noticed one of Jane’s socks on the floor next to her side of the bed. Where Jane’s other sock was, Maura didn’t have a guess, but she tossed the lone sock into her hamper. She didn’t mind if a few of Jane’s things ended up in her laundry--after all, Jane did a fair bit of undressing in this room--but she wished Jane would toss them there herself.

When Maura’s life was especially busy, she did hire help to keep her house clean, but she also didn’t particularly mind doing a lot of the tasks herself because she liked to know that her surroundings were sanitary, controlled. The work of cleaning and organizing wasn’t always fun, but it was rote, requiring so little of her actual attention that she could be alone with her thoughts, and the satisfaction upon completion was always worth the effort. As she vacuumed her bedroom later that week, she began to noticed that the vacuum cleaner was making strange sounds and struggling over her carpet.

She frowned, turning over the vacuum and gasping aloud at the long black hair tangled up in in the carpet roller.

She carried the vacuum downstairs to where Jane was studying on the sofa. “Jane.”

At Maura’s forceful voice, Jane looked up, expression alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

In answer, Maura merely flipped the vacuum cleaner over to show her. Jane stared for a moment, then said, “Yeah, that happens.”

“How have you left this much hair in my bedroom?” They had only been dating a few weeks, and though Maura vacuumed regularly, she supposed the hair had finally reached critical mass.

“Well, I left that much hair because if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been spending a lot of time in _your_ bedroom.”

Maura winced inwardly, realizing how it must’ve sounded to Jane. “And I want you there, but...I think you broke my vacuum cleaner.”

“Nah,” Jane stood up, “You just need to cut it out of the wheel every once in awhile.”

Maura was astonished. “I’ve _never_ had to cut my hair out of a vacuum cleaner.”

“Well, yours is a little shorter than mine. I dunno, I just shed a lot, I guess.”

“I’m not sure this is a healthy amount of hair to be shedding.”

Jane pushed a hand into her hair and fluffed it around, “Still seems to be plenty up here.”

Maura sighed, “Okay, well...can you fix it?”

“Yeah. I’ll get my pocket knife.”

As Jane came back downstairs with her knife, Maura realized something. “Jane. Have you ever vacuumed your bedroom?”

Jane frowned over the vacuum, “I dunno. It didn’t seem to need it, yet.”

Maura felt a dreadful, anxious sensation come over her. “I am terrified to bring this appliance into that room.”

“Relax. I’ll vacuum in there this weekend and I’ll take care of the hair.” She was already cutting into the tangled hair, pulling loose strands and clumps, creating a horrifying display on the kitchen floor.

Within a few minutes, Jane had the vacuum appearing and functioning well, though Maura had to take a sanitizing cloth to the area of the floor where the mound of dusty hair that Jane swept up had been. She just couldn’t unsee it. She supposed, as long as Jane helped, she could live with this, though she still couldn’t understand how that much hair was ending up on her floor.

That Friday, after a long week, Maura was eager to get in bed with Jane, but she noticed right away that the covers were uneven. “Did you make the bed this morning?” she asked.

Jane sounded hopeful as she replied, “Yeah, I straightened it out and everything.” Jane had slept in that morning, forgoing a morning run since she had been up late studying.

Maura sighed, feeling like some kind of anal-retentive monster. “It’s not right. Hold on, let’s make it properly.” And though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she began pulling the cover off the bed so they could completely straighten everything out.

“Sorry,” Jane muttered, clearly tired herself as she helped Maura remove the covers.

“I know I harp on this,” Maura replied, “But if you’re going to be in this bedroom with me, and I want you here resting and recreating with me, I need your help in maintaining it.”

“Well, we could just go sleep and bone in _my_ room,” Jane grumbled.

Maura raised an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”

Jane groaned, “Well, I don’t know _now_ , it’s not like I’ve been using that bed.”

Maura didn’t reply, and they made the bed in an edgy silence. Once it was to Maura’s liking, they climbed into it. Maura snuggled up to Jane, who welcomed her into her embrace, and she kissed Jane’s jaw. “I’m sorry. I know I’m particular. I’m not...I’m not the easiest person to cohabitate with.” She paused. “Maybe that’s why I don’t have much practice with it.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Jane sighed, seeming to let out a lot of tension with the breath. “It’s just hard for me to get used to. The things you need...I just don’t notice them the same way you do.” She turned her face to catch Maura’s mouth in a kiss. “But, you know, those detective skills aren’t _all_ gone. Once I start to get the hang of what I’m looking for, I’ll get better at noticing.”

She sounded sincere, her tired eyes puppy-bright. Maura was hopeful.

But as Jane’s school quarter went on, she lost some of the ability to notice. To a degree, Maura could understand. Jane was busy, functioning frequently in ways similar to what had served her well on the police force but had tended to leave her apartment and personal life in disarray. Maura tried to ignore the way receipts and change cluttered up Jane’s bedside table, but when she noticed the cereal bowl left there all day, she had to say something.

Maura carried the bowl downstairs to where Jane was stretched out on the couch doing homework. She was at least working on reading and not an essay, so Maura was a bit less concerned about interrupting, though once Jane found her focus, she could get prickly about intrusions regardless of the circumstance. So Maura started with simply saying her name, “Jane.”

If Jane were deeply engrossed, she might not even react to Maura’s voice, but she lowered the book she was reading, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

Maura couldn’t tell by Jane’s body language if this was a poorly timed conversation, but an itchy, anxious feeling was forcing her to address the issue at hand anyway. “I found this, in our bedroom.” She held up the bowl of cereal, noting again the way the remnants of the milk congealed around the spoon.

Jane sat up and sighed, closing the book and setting it aside, her lips pressing together. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, jaw barely moving. “I thought I brought it down this morning, and I haven’t been back up there to notice it yet.”

“I’m not trying to shame you,” Maura began, “I just wanted to clarify the rules for that space. I’d really, really like it to be food free, or at the very least, a room that very seldom has food in it.”

“I know,” Jane grumbled, avoiding her eyes. “I just...got comfortable there, I guess.”

“I _want_ you to be comfortable there,” Maura insisted, “I just...I just want you to try to be aware of things that distress me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane said again, “I’ll do better.”

Maura realized then that Jane was more frustrated with herself than with Maura, and that simply made her feel guilty for even discussing it. She took a breath. “I will make you a compromise. I will not complain about food in the bedroom if you do your very best to ensure I never find out there was food in the bedroom.” Jane’s eyes lifted to hers uncertainly, and Maura spoke words that she hated to even say. “What I don’t know can’t hurt me.”

Jane grinned, just slightly. “Somehow I don’t think that’s scientifically sound.”

“It’s not,” Maura sighed, “But it’s the best compromise I can offer.”

Jane’s spine straightened slightly. “I will do my best,” she vowed, her expression softening as she looked at Maura. She started to stand, “I’ll take that.”

“No,” Maura replied, already moving toward the kitchen. “I’ve got it. You study. Thank you. I love you,” she finished over her shoulder.

“Love you,” Jane mumbled back, and Maura could hear the smile in her voice. They didn’t actually say the words that often, since it was so apparent in every interaction they had together, but every once in awhile, it was nice to say and to hear.

As Maura rinsed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher, she vowed to try to compromise with Jane as much as possible, at least while she was finishing school. She told herself that if this happened again, she would do her best to take it in stride, as difficult as she knew that would be. As long as she didn’t build up resentment, she was certain they could work around Jane’s somewhat chaotic household presence.

Because since the last time they’d had a similar conversation, before they were dating, Jane _had_ gotten better about not leaving messes in common areas of the home. But Maura was certain Jane’s bedroom had tended toward its usual state of chaos, and now that they basically shared a bedroom, the habits had transferred over.

And Maura decided to make one more compromise, and began setting her alarm an extra ten minutes early in the mornings, giving her the opportunity to snooze in bed snuggling Jane before getting out of bed at her regular time and moving through her day’s routine.

There absolutely were things worth compromising on for Jane.

* * *

 

Jane’s quarter was going fairly well. Most of her classes were still fulfilling general education or related coursework requirements and were somewhat challenging simply due to her lack of interest, but she was also taking her first upper-level Criminal Justice course on alternatives to incarceration. At least courses like this were interesting, even if she probably had more practical experience in the field than even her professors, and though Jane sometimes struggled to set aside her ingrained sense of how she believed criminal justice should work, she did usually come away from the class feeling like she’d at least learned a new way to consider something. Maybe education had some benefit other than just a stepping stone to a new job.

And she and Maura had balanced their busy lives well enough that Jane felt like they got plenty of quality time together. They exercised together a few times a week, they shared meals, they spent time talking and unwinding together most evenings. And they were still finding time for sex. Though they hadn’t methodically tackled every point on their sexuality compatibility quiz, they had both engaged in slightly more talking and hair-pulling during sex, both things that Jane was fairly sure she knew how to do well enough to bust it out in the moment.

And Jane was becoming more aware of her own tendencies, and had absolutely done her best to make sure she respected Maura’s preferred level of order and cleanliness in their bedroom. It wasn’t that Jane was really messy, but sometimes she wasn’t conscious of mess and clutter until she looked at it with fresh eyes. Being busy didn’t help, either. Often, she was driven to clean at times in her life when she needed to be alone with her thoughts--as her old neighbor at her condo had pointed out, she tended to vacuum when she was working a tough case. She didn’t have much time for her thoughts these days, except for maybe in therapy, which meant that cleaning had largely been pushed aside since she’d moved in with Maura. That was a pattern for her life, too, periods of fairly regular cleaning and organization followed by disarray and clutter.

And even therapy was going pretty well. It was hard, and sometimes exhausting, but she usually felt better afterwards. They had spent several weeks really digging into the psychological trauma Alice Sands had inflicted on Jane, and she had even hesitantly admitted what had happened in DC, when she had been so afraid she had tried to pull her absent weapon on an innocent kid. Through their sessions, she was beginning to see the way the trauma of Hoyt’s manipulative evil, of losing Frost, of Alice Sands’s insidious campaign had left marks on her, scars she couldn’t see and had forced aside, refusing to acknowledge. Acknowledging them now was painful, but she was beginning to realize the ways they affected her thoughts and changed the way she viewed herself and her job, mostly to her own detriment. She was hopeful, and Dr. Hendrix seemed certain, that if they continued to work on it, Jane would be fully capable of again working in law enforcement. And being a part of work she loved was worth the effort.

All in all, her life was busy and routine, and at least this routine didn’t bore her the way it had in DC.

It was the week after Jane’s midterms, and she came home from class expecting to find Maura working on her novel in the living room, which was where she could reliably find her on a Monday afternoon. “I’m home,” she called as she came in the door, frowning at the silence.

Still, it wasn’t really worrisome. Maura might’ve gotten called to a crime scene or something. So Jane sent her a text letting her know she was home and to let her know what Maura was up to.

She sighed and sat on the couch, opening her backpack and pulling out books and folders, trying to figure out where to start. Ultimately, she got right back up again, deciding to start with coffee, hoping it would help her focus on all the reading she needed to finish.

As she was brewing coffee, Maura’s reply came though.

**I’m at my doctor’s appointment.**

Jane frowned at the text. Now that she’d been reminded of it, she vaguely recalled Maura telling her something about this last week when she’d been studying and writing essays for midterms. It didn’t seem like much to consider at the time, because while obviously Maura was a doctor, even doctors needed to see a doctor sometimes, right?

But the thought gave her pause now, because typically if Maura saw a doctor, she was seeing a specialist of some sort. Why would Maura need to see a specialist?

Jane tried to reassure herself that maybe Maura was seeing a neurologist, just as a sort of check in for the injury to her brain a year or so ago. Though, maybe Maura had reason to be concerned about something, too, and hadn’t wanted Jane to worry in addition to the stress of midterms.

Even with her coffee, Jane found it difficult to focus on her reading due to the gnawing concern in her mind about what on earth Maura’s doctor’s appointment might be about.

By the time Maura made it home an hour or so later, Jane had at least made some progress, though she eagerly tossed her book aside at the sound of the beep of Maura’s Prius as she locked it. Jane unlocked the door in time to open it for Maura, and Maura gave a warm greeting and grateful grin and stepped into the house, pausing to give Jane a brief kiss and then taking her automatic path to her desk to deposit her purse and glance through the mail.

Jane hovered nearby, waiting for Maura to satisfy her routine, and when she deemed it safe, she finally spoke. “So, how was the appointment?”

“It was very promising,” Maura replied with a satisfied smile. “Hope thought so, too.”

Jane was a bit thrown by the mention of Hope, wondering why this appointment would be important enough to bring Hope but not her. She shook her head, “Wait. What was this appointment?”

“The one with the reproductive endocrinologist,” Maura replied.

Jane’s eyes widened. She assumed she’d somehow previously overlooked this as her midterms-exhausted brain must’ve shorted out at the word “endocrinologist” but she sure as hell knew what reproductive meant. “Wait. What?”

“Hope got me a referral, and through examining my hormone levels, she was able to assess the likelihood that I could carry a pregnancy to term.” Her grin crept wider. “And...my chances currently look quite good.”

“I have to sit down.” Jane felt confused and overwhelmed, and circled back around to the couch to sit down heavily.

Concerned, Maura joined her, assessing her pulse and respiration. “Do you feel dizzy or light-headed?”

“Not really.” Jane allowed Maura’s fingers to press and smooth over her skin as she checked her vitals. “I just...I didn’t know this was happening and I’m freaking out. It’s way too soon.”

“I want you to take a deep breath. Hold for just a moment. Release. And again.” Maura walked her through a few deep breaths and Jane did her best to follow along, finding that the full breaths were at least lowering her base anxiety level. Then, Maura spoke, “This was just an assessment. I’m not pregnant and I will not be pregnant imminently. I simply wanted to know if the path to parenthood I was considering would be feasible.”

Jane nodded, “Okay, I guess that makes sense, but like...I’m still in school. I’m not ready for a kid yet.”

“I can definitely understand that,” Maura replied, and then shifted next to Jane on the couch, withdrawing a little. “Jane,” she said, her tone less clinical now, with a touch of sadness. “I just want to make sure we are on the same page. We’ve discussed having children in the future and you agreed to it, and while I completely understand your reticence to bring a child into the world while your life is so busy...I want to make sure you _do_ want kids, and you aren’t merely delaying it until it becomes an impossibility.”

Jane blew out her breath and sat back on the sofa. “Wow. I mean, it’s a legitimate question, and the answer is, yeah. I do want this with you, absolutely. I just...I just want to be a little bit more...stable in my life first. Both professionally and personally.”

Maura let out a relieved sigh. “Okay. I’m glad to hear you say so. And while I certainly agree that this is too soon and I think it’s reasonable for you to finish school first...I just don’t want to delay too long. I have no way of really knowing how long this window of possibility is going to be open for me.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jane agreed quietly. When they’d discussed this before, she hadn’t necessarily assumed that Maura would get pregnant. It seemed more likely that they’d use a surrogate, or adopt. “So, you really want to do this, huh? Like...actually _have_ a baby?”

“Yes,” Maura replied. “It’s a new desire for me, but one I’d like to experience with you.”

Jane hesitated, “Listen, I...was never really pregnant for long, like you know. But...it’s not really always easy or fun…”

“I know,” Maura nodded, “But it’s...it’s biologically transformative. Did you know that fetal cells remain in the mother’s body indefinitely? It is likely an evolutionary development that benefits the offspring and may or may not be harmful to the mother, but I’m fascinated with it, with the idea of holding a part of us, of our child in my body forever. I want to experience it all.”

Jane smirked a little, “Okay, you know I can’t actually get you pregnant, right?”

“I _know_ ,” Maura laughed, “though I was wondering if we should consider a male relative of yours to be a sperm donor, if you would like a biological tie to our child.”

“So, Frankie,” Jane replied immediately. Maura raised her eyebrows, and Jane said, “I mean, it’s really either him or Tommy, and let’s face it, I think Frankie got the better genes.”

Maura chuckled again. “I think Frankie would be a fine choice, if we decided to go that route.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Jane said thoughtfully, but it was still so hard to think about this clearly. Still, she realized that for many couples, there was no “right time” to have a child, and it often just kind of happened. She also realized that the work she was doing on herself, mainly through therapy, might not have a convenient end point that she could hold out for as being “ready” to have a kid. It might not make sense to wait until she had worked on herself enough, but she did at least want to be finished with school. “I just...I want this. I just really need to finish school first. Maybe know I have the new FBI position in the bag.”

“I agree with that,” Maura said, “I would like to be pregnant within the year, and if that’s the case, then by the time I have the baby, you should be finished with school and likely starting your new job.”

A year. It seemed like so little time, but then, Jane knew there was a reasonable time limit. “I can agree to that.”

In reply, Maura kissed her, and Jane put her arm around her shoulder a drew her close. They held each other for a long moment, reveling in the simple love and comfort contact provided. Finally, Maura said, “Did you have any interest in assessing your own fertility?”

Jane shifted uncomfortably. “Um. Not really? I mean, I’ve already had one miscarriage, and I don’t really feel like my, uh, womb is the safest place. I’ve been shot near there a few times.”

Maura nodded, “I presumed you felt something like this.” She kissed Jane’s cheek gently. “Well, if circumstances change, and it turns out I can’t have a child, I know we will figure something out. But right now, I’m simply excited that this is a possibility for us.”

“Me, too,” Jane responded, catching Maura’s lips. And she was excited, but she was nervous, too. Her life had changed so much in the past year and even in the past month that it was hard to consider how much it might change again in less than two years.

Jane was up late, mostly because of her coffee, but it meant she was at least able to get a good jumpstart on her homework for the week. When she got out of class the next afternoon, she didn’t have a whole lot of work to do that night, and she knew Maura was working clinic hours into the evening, so she decided to head to the Dirty Robber.

It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon, which Jane expected, and she was pleased to see that Korsak was working the bar. She’d been hoping she might run into him, since she’d been so busy they hadn’t had a chance to catch up in awhile.

She strolled over and took a seat in front of where he was working and he had a Peroni on the bar in seconds. She took a grateful pull of the bottle, the familiarity of the whole experience immediately putting her at ease, and she nodded her thanks to Korsak before saying, “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” he answered genially, “How’ve you been? Angela said you finished midterms.”

“Yeah,” Jane grimaced, “School is...school.”

Korsak laughed, “That good, huh?”

“It’s alright,” Jane grinned, “I’m just trying to get through it.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve been doing pretty well.” Korsak sounded proud, and Jane hid her smile with another sip from the bottle. “How’s Maura?”

“She’s great,” Jane didn’t try to hide the grin this time. “She’s amazing.”

“No surprise there,” Korsak chuckled. “How’s everything been going with you two, anyway?”

Korsak had found out about them the same family weekend almost everyone else had, but they really hadn’t had a chance to talk one-on-one about Jane’s new relationship since that point. So as Jane worked on her beer, she gave him an abbreviated version of how they got together, and of both of them starting to realize they’d had feelings for each other for far longer.

When Jane had finished, Korsak replied, “Well, I’m just happy for you both that you found each other. Always hoped you’d find somebody, and well, Maura’s pretty much perfect for you.”

“Yeah…” Jane was happy, but she lapsed into thought, remembering Korsak’s three failed marriages and the way they’d always said their former job killed relationships. There was a long period of time where neither of them even considered doing anything else with their lives but solving crimes, yet here they were, Korsak retired, and Jane in school to move on up to a different, safer way of fighting crime. Her conversation with Maura yesterday was still heavy in her mind. She regarded Korsak for a moment, then asked, “Do you ever regret not having kids?”

Korsak appeared a bit surprised by her question, but didn’t falter. “No, but that’s probably because I didn’t totally miss out on the experience. I missed a lot of years of stepson’s life that I wish I hadn’t, but I’m proud of him, and I love him. Besides, my animals are like kids to me.”

Jane snorted, “Yeah, but I think if your kids were pooping outside, someone would call the authorities.” Korsak laughed, and then Jane revealed. “Maura and I are uh, going to have a kid sometime in the next couple years.” It felt more real somehow, telling Korsak, and Jane felt a swell of strange longing and apprehension swirl through her.

“Really? Well, that’s great. Angela must be over the moon about it.”

“I haven’t told her yet.”

“You know if she finds out I knew before her that there will be hell to pay.”

“Let’s keep that part a secret.” Jane took a long pull of her beer.

Korsak laughed. “But this really is exciting. I know you’ve always wanted a family.”

“Yeah,” Jane replied, “It’s just...it’s kind of scary, you know? I’m still in school, and I know there’s no guarantee I’m gonna get that liaison job--”

“Please, they’re going to be lucky to have you,” Korsak cut in.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane replied, “But I just, I know I’m not ready now, and I’m scared I won’t be ready when it happens, but I know we can’t really wait either.”

“You want my advice?” Korsak asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Jane replied, sitting forward.

“Don’t delay living the life you want to have.”

Jane blinked, “What?”

Korsak grinned. “Maybe this is retirement talking, but...while I don’t regret my time on the force, and I’m grateful every day to have had a career I can be proud of, and I even miss it sometimes, no way in hell’d I go back.” He shrugged. “I’m happy now, I get to spend time with my wife and run a bar where the people closest to me come to hang out. I have a good life.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Jane nodded, frowning a little as she tried to see how Korsak’s retirement related to her own life.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, whatever this new job is? Make sure, even if you love it, that you give yourself time with Maura and your family. Don’t wait til you’re retired to build a life with her.”

He was right. They needed to take advantage of the time they had ahead of them. For as many times as Jane had been shot at or chased after by notorious criminals, she was lucky to even be sitting where she was.

“That’s pretty good advice.”

“I’m an old guy who tends bar. It’s what we do.” He cracked open a second beer and placed it in front of Jane. “Can I ask a question?”

She wondered why he was already offering a second drink, given that she was only halfway through the first. Not that she was going to complain. “Yeah, of course,” she replied, before taking a heartly chug, trying to finish out the bottle.

“When are you two getting hitched?”

Jane’s reaction was to spit beer halfway across the bartop.

And then, through the sound of Korsak’s laughter, that second beer suddenly made a lot of sense.


End file.
